In Search of Tranquility
by Tauna Petit-Strawn
Summary: Nick finds himself giving aide to a gentleman and his grandaughter. The man once helped him during the Civil War-only thing is the man is now on the run, but not from the law. Sorry, i still stink at summaries. Don't really think it needs a T rating only-due to a small skirmish-I'm playing it safe. All Barkleys are either shown or mentioned...mostly Nick though.
1. Chapter 1

In Search of Tranquility Chapter One

The light from the full moon and many stars made it easy for Nick to travel down a path that led towards the old cabin that he, his family**,** and other relatives had used on occasions. He'd been away from Stockton for a week and was eager to get home. Unfortunately, he realized arriving home would have to wait until the following day-as it was far too late to ride straight through.

Nick would have simply made camp only he was tired of sleeping on the ground. The bed in the cabin might not be the most comfortable only it still beat the alternative. He ducked in order to missed an old, long brown branch that had-thanks to the storm the day before-been turned downwards. By the looks of it, Nick was surprised the thing was still attached to the tree on which it hung.

"What…" He pulled up on the reins in his hands, causing Coco to stop in his tracks. He couldn't believe what he saw. There was a light in the cabin, and there was the smell of smoke coming from the chimney. He proceeded forward at a cautious pace, as he hadn't heard of any of the Barkley relatives being in this area …and he _knew_ his family wasn't.

Once he was near the cabin Nick dismounted quietly. Once he'd tethered the reins to the hitching post that he, himself, had built, he quickly moved to the side of the building and peeked through the window. He could see through the "kitchen/dining room" and into the living room-easy to do as there was no divider between the two places. He was surprised see a dark haired woman sitting in the rocker that his cousin had brought on her last visit. 'Woman needs someplace to rock her babies when she's visiting' had been his cousin's exact words as she'd sat down and held her infant son. Nick looked to see if he could see anyone else. His eyes fell on the cot that sat in the far corner of the room. A white haired gentleman lay on the cot with his back to the window. From the looks of it, the stranger was coughing a lot.

_'Storm probably chased them in last night'_ Nick thought as he walked around the corner and then up the few steps that led to the porch he, his father, and grandfather had added shortly before his grandfather had passed away.

From inside the cabin, the young woman could hear someone walking up the steps. She quickly stood up and, grabbing her grandfather's rifle-which had been hung on the back wall of the room-moved to her grandfather's side. She didn't know who was coming in. While she hoped it was the owner of the cabin…so she could explain everything…she knew it could also be a troublemaker. If that was the case, her sickly grandfather needed protection. She kept an eye on the door, waiting for it to open. She didn't have to wait long for Nick to turn the doorknob and step inside.

"Whoa!" Nick held his hands up in the air. "There's no need for that." He looked at the rifle pointed at him, and then smiled at the beautiful woman standing in the middle of the room. "I'm Nick Barkley. My family owns this land and this cabin. Who are you?" He lowered his hands and glanced at the old man on the cot-wondering all of a sudden why he was getting a feeling that he should know the man, who was now snoring lightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Barkley. I'm Rachel Mariah Anderson and this is my grandfather. His health is not good and then the storm hit last night…" She shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't realize we were on private land. I just saw the cabin and convinced him to rest here…since it looked as if it had been abandoned. Though, I admit, I wondered who would leave the place without taking the canned goods in the kitchen." She quickly said they'd move on in the morning.

Anderson…the name did not ring a bell. "You and your Grandfather Anderson may stay until he's better." Nick wasn't about to push a sick man out of any cabin.

"Conner Londrach; that's his name. He is my late mother's father." Rachel quickly corrected the wrong assumption.

It was all Nick could do to remained standing as he heard a name he hadn't heard in years come out of the young woman's mouth. He wasted no time in turning and going into the 'kitchen'-under the pretense of taking inventory of any food that was actually in the room. "Got to make sure you two have everything you need," Nick said-even as memories from the Civil War ran through his mind. One stuck out more than the rest.

_Nick let out a groan only to find a hand on his shoulder and a voice telling him everything was going to be all right… IF he kept quiet. "I've done what I can for ye lad, but I can promise death for both of us if either one of us is found."_

_ Nick opened his eyes and realized he was lying on a cot in what appeared to be some sort of cellar. The skirmish he and his unit had been in came back full force. He'd been shot and passed out. Only when he looked upon the face of the man who was speaking, Nick felt as if he was going to have heart failure. The soldier who appeared old enough to be his father was dressed head to foot in a gray Confederate uniform._

_ "Who are you? Why are you helping me?" Nick managed to ask through the pain in his shoulder._

_ "The name be Sergeant _Conner Londrach and, as far as helpin' ya goes, t_hat 'tis somethin' that doesn't really matter. However, I can't keep takin' care of you. My commander only let me come home for my da's funeral. I'm due to rejoin them in two days. I can help ya to a couple I know. They're Conscientious Observers. Glad you woke up, I hated the idea of actually tendin' to ya only to have to turn and leave ye here. You'd have died for sure."_

Nick finished taking stock of the food in the cupboards as the memory finished playing in his head. He wondered for if 'the old Confederate soldier', who had probably really only been in his forties during the war, would now tell Nick why he'd saved the life of a Union officer.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

_Previously: He'd wondered for years if 'the old Confederate soldier', who had probably really only been in his late thirties, had ever decided why he'd saved the life of a Union officer. It was a question Nick intended to have answered before the man and his granddaughter continued their journey to wherever they were going._

"Harumph"…Conner Londrach coughed and woke up. Only when he went to sit up, he found a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up to see Nick looking down on him. That face, those eyes…he knew them from somewhere but where?

"Your granddaughter's fixing some soup for you. I suggest you stay on that cot and continue resting." Nick took his hand off the older man's shoulder and sat down in a chair that he'd pulled over to the cot…after promising Rachel he'd tend to her grandfather while she cooked.

Mr. Londrach, who knew how bad he'd been feeling, wondered how long he'd been asleep…or had he actually been worse off than he thought? "How long have I been out?"

Nick looked out the window. The sun had been up for awhile. "Well, I got here around ten last night…and you'd been in the cabin at least three hours. That is, from what Rachel tells me, that' s what I figure. So, I'd say somewhere between 10 and a half hours to thirteen." He also added that he expected Mr. Londrach and Rachel to stay at the cabin until the older gentleman was well. "My family's home isn't that far away. I will go fetch some more supplies, and I'm sure my mother will insist on coming out and helping out where she can—as will the others. You need to rest. From the sounds of it, I dare say you have pneumonia…or will have if you don't already. I'll send for Dr. Merar as well."

"No, no doctor!" Mr. Londrach snapped, and then coughed again. "Sorry, not tryin' to be ungrateful, lad. I know ye mean well only money is somethin' we have very little of. Rachel, the good lass, she knows her medicine as well as I do. Well, good enough to be doctorin' the likes of her grandfather when he can't do for himself."

"You don't have to worry about the cost," Nick put his hands on hips and smiled slightly, "I'm paying this time, Sergeant."

Sergeant? Conner Londrach, who was stunned to hear a title he hadn't had a reason to use for a number of years, stiffened and studied the man even closer than he had before. He knew California had been a Union state with sympathies for 'the other side' in the southern part of the state. He started to wonder if, by some chance, the gentleman before him had actually fought for the South. However, as he studied Nick's face and eyes, his eyes widened in shock. "You are that young Northern soldier I helped? Barkley, I believe?"

Nick smiled even wider. "Yes, Nick Barkley to be exact." He removed his hands off his hips and sat down on the foot of the bed. "Do you mind telling me if you ever decided why you took such a risk? You could have been shot as a traitor."

Conner Londrach waited to reply as his granddaughter walked towards the bed and then handed him a cup; she'd put the soup in it thinking her grandfather would have an easier time eating the food while he was confined to the bed if it wasn't in a bowl. He took a sip of the soup and shrugged his soldier. "You not be tellin' me anythin' I wasn't aware of." he turned his face towards the wall and coughed again.

Nick could see his former rescuer needed a doctor worse than he needed to answer Nick's question at the moment. Standing up, "I'm going turn around and ride into Stockton, see if Dr. Merar's available."

"Not before you eat somethin'," Mr. Londrach, who heard Nick's stomach growl, pointed towards the kitchen.

Nick wouldn't have argued-even if he wasn't hungry-only Rachel had already set a bowl on the table. "I'm sorry, not exactly what one would normally eat in the morning."

"Don't worry." Nick sat down and began eating the soup she'd placed before him. It was delicious! "As I said, I'll make sure both of you get some more food and anything else you need while you're here. And," he said as she started to object, "I don't want to hear any argument. I'd be dead years ago if it weren't for him." Nick gestured towards Mr. Londrach. "I owe him."

"That makes two of us. My father and two brothers were killed during the war, and mama died from Typhoid when I was fourteen. I've lived with Grandfather Londrach ever since." Rachel, who was keeping an eye on her grandfather-as he'd fallen back to sleep, looked at Nick. "Grandfather doesn't talk about the war. I never knew he'd helped anyone from the other side. May I ask just what he did for you?"

Nick told her of the skirmish he'd been in and how he'd been wounded. "I don't know how I crawled as far as I did, as he found me a good mile or two from where the fight took place. From what the couple that he took me to later told me, he'd taken care of me for a solid forty-eight hours. I don't know how he got away with it only I'll be forever grateful." He finished his soup, thanked her and stood up. "Sooner I get to town the sooner I can get Dr. Merar out here."

"Mr. Barkley…" Rachel quickly rose to her feet.

"Nick, the name is simply Nick. I have two brothers at home and one at college. Mr. Barkley will only confuse the issue; this is, if any of them stop to help." Nick told her, as he was ninety percent sure that at least one member-if not more – of his family would drop by. That is, once he told them what was going on.

"Do you have to tell anyone but the doctor and your family we're here? I promise you…we've broken no laws." Rachel knew her question would arouse his curiosity…maybe even make him think he shouldn't help them. Maybe… "You can ask the sheriff about us if you want. Like I just said, we've done nothing wrong."

Nick was indeed puzzled by the request he heard. If she wasn't afraid of him talking to the sheriff, why would she want him to keep quiet to others? Still…. "I'll talk to no one but my family and Dr. Merar." Nick looked toward her grandfather and then walked out the door telling himself the first place he was going to when he reached Stockton was Jarrod's office right -after talking to the good doctor.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_Previously:_

_Nick was indeed puzzled by the request he heard. If she wasn't afraid of him talking to the sheriff, why would she want him to keep quiet to others? Still…. "I'll talk to no one but my family and Dr. Merar." Nick looked toward her grandfather and then walked out the door telling himself the first place he was going to when he reached Stockton would be Jarrod's office right after talking to Dr. Merar._

"I don't know what's going on, but he saved my life during the war." Nick stood in the doctor's office. He'd just finished explaining that a visitor needed medical help. "So, please, do as his granddaughter asks and don't ask any questions or speak about them." Nick went on to say that he needed to talk to Jarrod before he-Nick-took the doctor anywhere.

If Dr. Merar didn't know Nick so well, knew that-one way or the other-the man would find out what the problem was, he might have argued. As it was, he simply grabbed his bag and asked for directions. "If he's as bad off as you seem to think, I don't think I should wait. I've been on your family's land enough I should be fine if you tell me where he's at."

"That might be the case only they've never met you. Whatever she's afraid of might make her think something's happened to me and someone else sent you. I'll make it fast." He hurried out the door and down the street. In no time flat Nick was standing inside Jarrod's office giving him the short version of what was going on.

"I'm not talking to Fred, and I don't think you need to either. Only, I don't think it would hurt for you to make some inquiries. Something has her scared, and I'd like to know what it is." Nick leaned against the wall as he talked.

Jarrod asked if Nick knew of anyone else that Mr. Londrach had helped during the Civil War. "Not too many soldiers on one side would help the men on the other side."

Nick stepped away from the wall and admitted he'd asked that very question to Mr. Londrach. That is, what his motivation for giving aid to Nick was. "He only got as far as saying, basically, that he knew the risk he was taking before he started coughing again. So, do you know of anyone who could look into things without making a lot of noise?"

Jarrod nodded. "Yes, only, the request screams that someone is after them." He held up his hand when Nick started saying he believed Miss Anderson when she said they hadn't done anything illegal. "I didn't say the law. While I contact a few friends, you keep your eyes wide open … and in the right direction." He gave Nick a look that said 'don't tell me you're not looking at the girl'.

"Don't worry 'bout me." Nick turned towards the door. "I'm going to try to get some answers myself, just wanted you to look into things-to back up anything I might get told." He then left and hurried towards the doctor's office. Soon he and Dr. Merar were riding out of town. The two wasted no time and were riding to the cabin within forty-five minutes after leaving town.

"Thank goodness you're back." Rachel opened the door and let Nick and the doctor in. "His coughing is only getting worse."

Dr. Merar went straight over to his patient while Rachel lowered her voice and asked Nick if they could talk outside. "Grandfather might try to put his two cents in if we talk in here."

Nick opened the door and told the doctor where he'd be if the doctor needed him. The whole time he hoped that he had wasted his time in asking Jarrod to look into things. Once outside he looked at Rachel, who looked as if she was having a huge struggle going on inside her, and asked, "What's wrong?"

Rachel folded her arms and leaned against the cabin wall. "I do thank you for everything only we could be here for awhile. You paying for everything while grandfather's recuperating-even if he did save your life years ago-doesn't seem right."

"Take care of this place while you're using it, and I don't mind." Nick smiled and then grew serious. "Whatever the problem is, you don't have to deal with it on your own. I can help you; my family will help."

Rachel stepped away from the cabin and, turning her back to Nick, let out a huge frustrated sigh as she threw her hands up into the air before turning back around. "I don't know the problem is exactly! All I know is one moment I'm cooking in grandpa's kitchen, the next moment he's telling me to grab a few things and that we're leaving. We've been traveling for a solid two months-doing odd jobs here and there that enables us to continue moving. I've tried a number of times to get him to tell me..." She pointed towards the cabin as if she was actually pointing at her grandfather. "…what he's so afraid of. Don't ask why I would follow him if I don't know what he's running from. He's my grandfather, and we're both alone."

"Do you know where he intends to go?" Nick asked, not liking the fact that she was in the dark when it came to what her grandfather was running from.

"Maybe," she rubbed the back of her neck. "He's talked about Montana and Wyoming both. Mostly Montana," All of a sudden she felt as if she had aged ten years. "I'd give up everything I ever dreamed of having or doing if I just knew what is driving him to flee as if our lives depend on it."

Nick, who hadn't intended on telling her he'd asked Jarrod to look into it, found himself confessing everything. He wasn't shocked by the surprise that appeared in Rachel's eyes, nor the mixed emotions that appeared in her eyes.

"You promised not to talk to anyone but your family and the doctor. I never stopped to think you'd have someone else do it for you." The look in Rachel's eyes told Nick that she was thinking she and her grandfather might be making a mistake in staying where they were.

"If I was out of line, I'm sorry. Only I want to help if I can, and I need to know what's going on in order to do that. Jarrod won't ask any questions of anyone who has a reputation of talking too loudly…and he's not talking to the sheriff. Though, I dare say he might be tempted to do so." Nick then asked her not to get any ideas of moving on before her grandfather was completely recovered. "Whatever is going on, the two of you need help. Jarrod's willing to help, as the others will be. I know they will."

Relaxing a little, Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "How long we stay will depend on grandfather, not me. Though, if we don't want him bolting, I dare say we best not tell him what you just confessed to me. Oh, I'll tell him later-when he's really better, but not now." She thanked Nick again and then disappeared back into the cabin, leaving Nick even more determined to find out what Conner Londrach was so afraid of.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"He did the right thing." Victoria, who was sitting in the Barkleys' living room, had just finished listening to Heath…who had just finished telling her about the message Jarrod had sent out to the ranch. "No one needs to be traveling when they're that ill. Let's get those supplies together, and then you can take them out to the cabin."

"Silas is already working on the food." Heath admitted he'd come in through the back door and almost literally bumped into the faithful servant. "If I remember right, you and Audra were talking about replacing some of the bedding in that place. Thought I'd take it out with me as well."

"Good idea," Victoria stood up and headed for the stairs with Heath following behind her.

While Heath and Victoria were gathering up the bedding and loading it, along with the food Silas had put into a couple of boxes, Jarrod found himself standing outside his office talking to Fred of all people. While the lawman simply wanted to visit for a short spell, Jarrod found himself thinking about Mr. Londrach and the fact that the man's granddaughter seemed to be afraid of anyone knowing where they were. Just as he was thinking that maybe he should ask Fred some questions after all, Fred unintentionally shot that idea down when he commented that at least he'd had a slow few weeks. "Haven't even received any new wanted posters, which is a miracle in itself."

Jarrod was relieved to hear the part about the posters. It meant, most likely, Miss Anderson had been honest with Nick when it came to her grandfather, herself and the law. "That does make things pleasant for you, for awhile anyway." Jarrod smiled and then causally asked if the sheriff had heard of any other 'excitement' in the area, thinking that there was a slight chance the law could be looking for the visitors who were staying at the Barkley's small cabin.

"Not unless you want to count the Hagans being blessed with twin boys yesterday," Fred chuckled saying that, if the boys were anything like their father, they would be keeping those around them very much alert. "Mr. Hagan always did have a bunch of energy he was always using up to get into one mess or another, nothing illegal mind you, just small 'skirmishes'." He then excused himself, leaving Jarrod to head to the telegraph office where he wasted no time in sending a wire to one of his friends in the Pinkerton agency. He then headed towards the café, figuring he might as well eat before he went back to work.

~oOo~  
"Thank you for coming out here." Rachel stepped away from her grandfather and stood next to Nick as Dr. Merar began examining Mr. Londrach. "I've been worried about him for a few weeks now, but he was too stubborn to let me have a doctor look at him."

"He has pneumonia." Dr. Merar stood up while he removed the stethoscope from off his neck. "It's a good thing you came and got me." He looked at Nick, who wore a more than concerned look on his face. "I dare say it would have only gotten worse and, eventually killed him. Still might," he shook his head. "I don't suppose you have any ice nearby? He's running a fever and, if it gets worse, we'll have to have some way to try and get it down."

"No," Nick shook his head. "We always took someone that sick to the main house and used ice from ice house." He turned his face towards Rachel. He wasn't surprised to see the depth of worry she had for her grandfather in her eyes. "Heath is supposed to be bringing supplies out here. Maybe, we should transport Mr. Londrach to the main house instead."

He and the doctor, who was about to agree with Nick, were startled when Rachel stiffened and practically yelled, "NO!" She apologized when both men started and lowered her voice. "Sorry, but grandfather made it abundantly clear that, if he came into the cabin as I begged him to, that I was not get the idea of moving him anywhere…no matter the consequence." She shuddered and then added quietly. "Maybe I shouldn't have only I promised him I'd listen if he just stopped and rested. I was desperate." She looked at Nick and the doctor, her eyes begging the two gentlemen to understand. "He did his part; I need to keep my promise. If it's still okay that we are in this cabin," she said as she looked at Nick, "he needs to be tended to here." She saw no reason to state she was still worried her grandfather would demand to leave once she got around to telling him Jarrod was asking questions. It was a subject she and Nick had already discussed.

Her statement reinforced Nick's desire to know what on earth Conner Londrach was running from. After a moment, Nick shook his head and apologized to the doctor. "Simply do your best, we'll just have to hope his fever doesn't get so high that ice is warranted."

Dr. Merar shrugged his shoulders and handed a large bottle of liquid medicine to Rachel. "It's cough medicine. Give him a teaspoonful every three or four hours and use wet cloths on his forehead." He looked at Nick as if to say 'and you try to talk some sense into the gentleman when it comes to moving out of this cabin!'

"Thanks, Doc," Nick held the door open as his friend exited the cabin, saying he would be back within forty-eight hours-if he wasn't pulled away due to some emergency. Only when the doctor had driven away and the door was shut did Nick walk over to the foot of the bed. "I know you said he never told you directly why he is running." Nick's eyes went from the sick man on the cot to Rachel, who was sitting on a chair near the head of the bed. "And I'm not doubting you," he added due to the fact that Rachel had taken on a defense posture. "However, I do want to know if he ever said anything that made it so you had any suspicions as to what might be going on."

Rachel let out a slow breath and did her best to relax, keeping her eyes on her grandfather. "Overall, Grandfather Londrach is a good man, really. And, up to now, I would never suspect him of doing anything that would lead to any negative consequence for himself. Only, when we left our home, he said that 'sometimes small choices eventually lead to bigger things'." She turned her face towards Nick, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I think some 'small choice' in his past has caught up with him. It's the only thing that makes sense to me. I am sorry. I can not tell you anything else." She turned her face back towards her grandfather. "And, I truly wish I hadn't promised not to move him anywhere else."

Recalling the help the gentleman had given him during the war, Nick walked out of the cabin and sat on the only chair outside the building. While he couldn't see how saving him could have led to anything that would put the sick man in danger now, Nick swore to protect the gentleman and Rachel with all he had-unless Jarrod found evidence that said the man needed to be turned over to the law.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The sun was just rising when Nick, who was standing by the 'kitchen' window, saw Heath driving a wagon towards the cabin. "It's Heath; my brother," Nick said when Rachel, who had just given her grandfather some of the cough medicine, stood up straight.

Nick opened the front door and stepped outside. Once Heath had the wagon stopped, the dark haired rancher walked up to its side and started removing the boxes. "Didn't expect you for a couple of hours,"

"I woke up early and figured I might as well get these items out here. Though, don't worry, I talked to McColl and gave him instructions for the morning before I left." Heath headed for the door that Rachel was holding open for him and his brother.

Once inside Heath put the box on the table while Nick put the one he was carrying on the kitchen counter. Heath, who had not taken a good look at the sick man on the cot, started to turn back towards the door in order to go get another box (he'd brought four out) and found himself unable to move as his eyes fell on the sick visitor.

"Heath," Nick-who didn't want to start questioning his brother in front of their visitors, tapped Heath on the shoulder, "we still have boxes to get."

"Oh, sorry," Heath said before walking out the door. However, before he could retrieve more supplies, Nick was stepping up beside him and-in an uncharacteristically low volume, demanded to know why Heath had reacted the way he had when he'd looked at Conner Londrach.

"And don't tell me it's nothing," Nick hissed low as he laid hands on one of the boxes. "If there's something you know about the man, speak up."

"If I promise you it's nothing bad, would you wait for the answer until after we get the supplies inside and we find time to be alone?" Heath lifted the third box out of the wagon. The last thing he wanted was to make their guests nervous…and standing outside talking instead of taking in the supplies would do just that. Well, in his eyes it would.

"Fine, but the first free minute we have you best start talking. You looked as if someone took ice water and threw it in your face…and I want to know why." Nick said as he followed Heath into the cabin, carrying the last box in his arms.

"Grandfather and I can never thank you enough." Rachel started unpacking the boxes, thrilled to find one of them contained two new blankets; one was blue and the other was brown. Both felt as if they were more than capable of keeping a person warm at night. Then, due to the fact that she thought that Heath's reaction was due to the fact that he really hadn't understood just how ill her grandfather was, added, "I am still sorry. I feel as if we're now a burden to you and your family."

"You're not such thing." Nick quickly corrected her.

Heath, who was kicking himself for actually allowing his shock to show, didn't hesitate to back him up. "Helping people should never be considered a burden, no matter the circumstances."

Rachel, who had kept all the stress she'd been feeling hidden, was overcome with the kindness that was being shown and, unsuccessfully, fought to keep tears from flowing down her face.

"Hey, no tears." Nick put his hand on her shoulders. "As I said before, the two of you can stay here until he's better." He nodded towards her grandfather. "In fact, you're more than welcome to stay longer if you need it."

"And don't tell him it's not necessary to extend the offer," Heath gave her a crooked grin. "He'll still give it, as will the rest of us." He then told Nick that Victoria planned on coming out later that day. "I wouldn't be surprised if Audra showed up some time as well."

"Mr. Londrach needs rest, not a bunch of visitors." Nick's protective nature started showing even more than it had been. "Please see if Audra will wait for a few days."

Heath couldn't help but chuckle as Nick wasn't adding their mother to that request. "I'll do that." He bade Rachel goodbye and then walked out the door. He wasn't surprised when Nick exited the house shortly after he did. By the time Heath was sitting on the wagon, Nick was standing next to the horses.

"So, what's up? What do you know?" Nick rested his hand on the horse he was standing next to.

Not knowing of Nick's past experience with their visitor, Heath surprised Nick by stating just which uniform Conner Londrach had worn during the Civil War. However, the blond haired cowboy stunned Nick even more when he said, "He didn't carry a gun through the whole war. After his father died, he went into medicine and became a doctor."

_"I hate all this death and suffering. Somehow, I'm going to find a way to help stop some of it if I can." _The last words Conner Londrach had spoken to Nick before leaving him with the Conscientious Objectors rang in the rancher's ears. "And just how do you know this?" Nick asked slowly, fearing he knew what was coming.

"He spent the last year of the war at Carterson." Heath answered slowly as his mind went back in time as he began telling one particular story.

_"I thought you were supposed to be tending to the guards and commander. Not coming to the aid of a prisoner," Heath looked at Dr. Londrach as the gentleman tended to the marks on Heath's back…marks put there by an unruly prison guard who had no just cause for hurting the young prisoner._

_ "If that guard or Commander Bentell want to fire me, let them." Dr. Londrach started putting bandages on Heath's back. "It's like I told the commander when I was sent here. My orders were to tend to every sick body that would allow me to help them. Besides," he lowered his voice, "you and many of the prisoners here never should have had cause to be in any battle of any sort; you are far too young."_

"He couldn't have made many friends doing things like that." Nick mused aloud.

"Not really; however, he was so good with everyone-on both sides-that the guards and Bentell didn't bother him. Besides, when it come to the prisoners, it was always the 'youngin's' that he tended too. As far as I know, people said it was because he couldn't stand to see mere children among the captives." Heath lifted up the reins. "Don't worry," he said in quiet voice, "I won't be saying anything. I owe that doctor more than I can say." He then started the wagon down the road, telling Nick he'd be back later as he did so.

Nick turned around and saw Rachel standing on the porch. From the look on her face, he could tell she'd heard at least some of what was said…and was now worried word would get out they were here and which side of the war her grandfather had served with. While he was now convinced that there was a high possibility that the older man had indeed made an enemy during the war, he wasn't about to have Londrach's granddaughter think that the rest of his family were in that group.

Nick walked up to Rachel and put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I've told you more than once since we met that you're among friends. Now, come on, let's keep an eye on that old man in there." His eyes twinkled as he spoke.

Rachel relaxed and chuckled. "Don't let him hear you call him old. He only just turned sixty."

Nick smiled, but said nothing as the two of them went back into the cabin.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Sounds like something my brothers would have done," Rachel, who was seated next to the cot keeping an eye on her grandfather (who was drifting in and out of sleep, and still coughing too much) looked from Nick to Victoria-who had arrived alone roughly an hour ago. The two Barkleys were seated on the couch and had been swapping short, funny stories back and forth with their guest. Victoria had just finished telling how Nick and Jarrod had found some hidden alcohol-which had turned out to belong to one of the ranch hands that worked for Tom Barkley at the time-and decided to have their own 'party'. Unfortunately, that had led to the two of them becoming drunk and acting very stupid in front of their own parents.

"I think we best find some new stories." Nick grinned and laughed while Victoria simply smiled and told him it's what he got for bringing up the alcoholic ranch hand in the first place.

"I…" Victoria started to say something else only to have Conner Londrach start another round of coughing.

Rachel jumped to her feet and, along with Nick, turned Mr. Londrach on his side. They didn't want him choking on anything that might come up his throat. Once the fit of coughing stopped, they laid the man back down on his side. "He's still so hot." Rachel laid her hand on her grandfather's forehead.

"If you'd let us move him to the main house, we have an icehouse we could easily get him packed in ice… to try to help bring the fever down." Victoria urged while Nick's eyes were also pleading with Rachel to do as his mother said.

Rachel never felt so torn in her life. She desperately wanted to tell the Barkleys to do just that, as she didn't want to be burying her grandfather before his time. On the other hand, she'd given the older gentleman her word when he'd asked for it.

Rachel started to speak only to be shocked beyond measure -as were the Barkleys- when her grandfather, who had become just aware enough of his surroundings and heard what the Barkley matriarch said, spoke up.

"No!" Conner turned his head and coughed again. He looked at Nick, his eyes filled with a pleading of his own. "You once said you owed me." Conner closed his eyes and said quietly, "I don't think you do." He opened his eyes back up. "Only, if your really feel that way, don't be pushin' the subject." The gentleman turned his head away from Nick.

Nick sighed and looked at his mother, who was looking at her middle son with confusion. He knew it was because, as far as everyone was concerned, he'd been wounded in battle and taken straight to an army hospital. He turned his eyes towards Rachel. He could plainly see the tormented look in her eyes, a look of someone who was being pulled in two directions. Since it hadn't been all that long since he'd made Heath promise not to tell anyone about the wolf bite, he found himself thinking about that particular incident. Once again since coming home, it hit him full force just how bad it had been for Heath…because he'd had no one to lean on. "We'll keep him here." He told her and then looked questionably at his mother. "There's enough of us that there's no reason we couldn't take turns helping with Mr. Londrach's care is there?"

"No, no there isn't." Victoria replied after a moment and then asked, with a knowing look in her eye, "Just how much of that time do you plan on being out here?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders and walked over to where Conner Londrach lay. The man had drifted back into a restless sleep. "As much as I can."

Victoria, who just knew she was in the dark over something, wanted to demand the whole story from her son only, with Miss Anderson in the room and her grandfather so ill, the chance of getting Nick to tell her anything wasn't very high. "I…" she started to say more only to hear a horse approaching. Nick was out of the door before Victoria could say anything else.

"Jarrod," Nick approached his older brother after Jarrod had dismounted. "Did you find something out?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Not yet, I just thought I'd swing by and see what, if anything, you'd been able to learn and just how our guests are."

"Mother's in there…and, so far?" Nick sighed. "He's very sick is all I can say for sure. As far as learning something, I got nothing from Rachel, but I had a talk with Heath." Nick repeated what their half-brother had revealed…and then very quietly reminded Jarrod what he'd been told by Nick when he first talked to Jarrod in his office. By the time he was through, Jarrod was letting out a low whistle.

"As I said before, I'd say someone in his past caught up with him. I mean, in war time, you're not exactly supposed to be friendly with anyone but those who are fighting with you." Jarrod wasn't surprised when a 'you really have to tell me this why?' look appeared on Nick's face. Only, when he suggested Nick go home and let their mother continue helping their guests until the Doctor came by again, his hot tempered brother shook his head rather vigorously.

"I just told you that man risked his neck to save my life, and helped Heath out immensely as well. I'm staying here with Rachel and tend to the care of Conner myself. That is, as much as I possibly can."

Before Jarrod could ask if he could safely assume Rachel was Miss Anderson, Rachel stepped outside. Jarrod would have let out another low whistle only he didn't want to send the message the young woman had caught his attention in 'that way'. However, he wasn't blind as he saw the look in Nick's eyes when his brother looked at Rachel and smiled. "Be careful Nick." Jarrod would have said more only he had to get back to town. "I'll talk to you later." He bid Nick goodbye and then turned Jingo around and rode away while his brother headed back inside.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Nick, who had gotten a few hours sleep on the couch in spite of Mr. Londrach's coughing spells, was now sitting on the table eating the eggs, bacon and pancakes that Rachel had cooked. Since her grandfather was sleeping relatively okay, the young woman was also seated at the table. "You said your parents and brothers were gone. Do you have any sisters?" Nick could have sworn the former sergeant had mentioned a few granddaughters in a passing comment he'd made to the Conscientious Objectors he'd taken Nick to.

"Had a couple of girls who my parents took in for awhile. Grandfather insisted on including them on his list of grandchildren, but no-I was the only girl in my father's family." Rachel put down her fork and looked out the window. "I was spoiled for many years, too many I fear. Took a few lessons from the school of hard knocks to see just what I had and to stop taking the people and things in my life for granted." She turned her eyes back towards Nick while still keeping her eyes on her grandfather. "He is all I have now. I wish I knew what was going on. I don't like having to tend him here when we could be in your family's home with ice nearby." Rachel then stood up, put her dishes in the sink and then walked over to her grandfather. She laid her hand on the gentleman's forehead, frowned and then retrieved a rag from the kitchen-after putting it into a bucket of water that sat next to the sink. Soon she was laying a wet cloth across the older man feverish forehead. "He's still too hot."

Nick stood up and walked over to the side of the cot and looked from Rachel to Conner Londrach and then back to Rachel. As he did so he and Rachel were shocked to hear the man start rambling, unaware of what he was saying. 'No, got to get Rachel to safety. Can't let leave her alone….doesn't matter what happens to me."

Nick's eyes widened as the man's mutterings deteriorated into words neither he nor Rachel could understood. The fact that the man more concerned for his granddaughter than himself, did not surprise them. However, what were they in danger from was still the unanswered question.

"Who is after him? What is going on?" Rachel asked, her face still even though she knew they were questions Nick would have no answer to. She then added that of course it mattered what happened to her grandfather.

"I have no idea, but no one is going to hurt either one of you. When Heath gets here I'll tell him to we need some men guarding this cabin…far enough away that there will be no need for your grandfather to be nervous, but close enough to keep an eye on us." Nick wasn't surprised when Rachel's eyes brows went up.

"You were suppose to be leaving when your mother or sister arrives, but you're staying." Even as she said the words she was surprised to find a sense of immense relief settling over her. Though, she didn't know why. In the short time Nick had been at the cabin helping her-along with which ever member of his family happened to drop in, she'd rapidly grown accustomed to him being around. However, she didn't realize she was letting that relief show until Nick walked around the bed and then up to her. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he smiled. "It's like I've said more than once, I'm not going anywhere. Well, not any farther than I have to." He added the last part because his mother or Audra had spent the previous two days with her-as Nick had had work on the ranch that couldn't be avoided.

While she tried not to, the stress of the past few months-along with the stress of hoping her grandfather recovered from his sickness coupled with Mr. Londrach's feverish mumblings finally caught up with Rachel. Her tears started flowing down her cheeks. Naturally, that action had Nick pulling her into a tight, but not hurtful, embrace.

"I…I'm sorry." Rachel, embarrassed by the breakdown, pulled away and started wiping her eyes only to find Nick handing her his bandana. "I don't know what overcame me."

"Too much stress," Nick looked from Rachel to her grandfather who had started coughing again. "It will do it every time. Go lay down on the couch. I'll sit up with your grandfather." When she started to protest, Nick put his fingers on her lips and told her not to argue. "You need rest. You've been pushing yourself too hard. I can watch him for a few hours."

After a moment, Rachel nodded and smiled back. "Thanks, Nick. I can never thank you enough." She went and laid down while Nick retrieved the cough medicine and got Mr. Londrach, who had opened his eyes just as Rachel walked away, to take some medicine. Nick might have started asking some questions only his patient had his eyes back shut before he could. As Nick sat keeping an eye on the gentleman, his mind once again turned back to the war….back to the short period he'd been aware of Conner Londrach helping him.

"_Sorry, Lad. I know I'm pushin' you." Conner had his right arm around Nick's waist and was holding onto the lower part of Nick's left arm-which was wrapped around Conner's neck. "Only, as I was sayin' before, it's sure death for both of us if we be caught out here. And, like it or not, I can only carry you so far. You have to be doin' some of the walkin' yerself."_

_Nick, who was fighting to keep alert enough to do just that, nodded though he said nothing at first. He didn't know why Sergeant Londrach was helping him, but he was grateful. Seventeen was too young to die…even if he'd seen too many boys and men die since he'd joined in the fight. "How many others have you helped?" He managed to ask as a house came into view._

"_I've never tended to a Union officer before." Conner answered as he literally picked Nick, who was showing signs of passing out, up in his arms. "It's only two hundred yards to the house. I'll be carryin' you the rest of the way, lad."_

Nick removed the rag that lay across the gentleman's forehead, dipped it in a nearby bucket of water and then placed it back on the sick visitor. The man was moaning and moving his head back and forth-making it hard to keep the rag in place. "I guess, in a way, it's time for me to carry you." He turned his head, looked at Rachel who was sleeping and added as he turned his attention back to Mr. Londrach, "Don't worry about your granddaughter. I'll protect her with everything I've got as well."

Nick didn't know whether or not Conner Londrach actually understood every word that was spoken only he must have heard enough, as his head stopped moving and he seemed to relax just a little.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

_Insert from Chapter Seven_

_ Nick removed the rag that lay across the gentleman's forehead, dipped it in a nearby bucket of water and then placed it back on the sick visitor. The man was moaning and moving his head back and forth-making it hard to keep the rag in place. "I guess, in a way, it's time for me to carry you." He turned his head, looked at Rachel who was sleeping and added as he turned his attention back to Mr. Londrach, "Don't worry about your granddaughter. I'll protect her with everything I've got as well, as will my family." _

Nick, who had been awake for a couple of hours (he and Rachel had been taking turns keeping an eye on her grandfather) heard what sounded like two wagons approaching. He quickly walked over to the window. He let out a sigh and hurried to open the door for his mother-who had actually been driving the family's surrey- and Dr. Merar-who was driving his wagon.

"How's our patient?" Dr. Merar asked as he walked in to see Rachel, who had awoken, sitting on the couch.

"He's not getting any better from what I can tell." Nick answered as he watched the doctor walk over to the bed while Victoria sat down next to Rachel. "I don't like it." After looking out as if to check the area around the cabin was clear of any uninvited guests, Nick shut the door. Since Conner Londrach had continued to mutter how he needed to get Rachel to a place of safety and his life didn't matter as much as hers, Nick wasn't about to let down his guard.

Having learned there was a need for guards for their visitors, Victoria didn't bother asking what her middle son was doing. It seemed like an eternity before the doctor finished examining Mr. Londrach and Nick, his mother and Rachel all found themselves holding their breaths.

"Has he been lucid at all?" Dr. Merar said as he placed his stethoscope against Conner's chest.

"Not really," Nick kept his answer short-even as he thought on the words the man had spoken in his fevered state of mind.

Finally, Dr. Merar shook his head and took off the tool he used to listen to his patient's lungs. "He's one very sick man. My best medical opinion is his fever will either break in the next seventy-two hours, or he'll be leaving us." No one was surprised when Rachel's hands flew up and covered her mouth, even as she let out a painful cry. "I'm sorry I don't have better news. I'll come out in a couple of days-if you haven't sent for me before then." He put his stethoscope back in his black medical bag, shut it and then walked out of the cabin.

At first no one spoke as they looked upon Conner Londrach who-even with their removing as much clothing as possible and washing him down regularly- was perspiring quite badly. When the silence was broken, it was Victoria who spoke. "Sometimes people try to hurt someone another person cares about in a sick, twisted need for revenge. Tom and I had to deal with that a time or two in our marriage." Victoria explained. "Is there anything you can think of at all, anything your grandfather may have said in the past, that made you think that; perhaps, there was someone like that in his life?"

Because she had told Nick she understood that his family needed to be told everything, Rachel wasn't surprised by the Barkley matriarch's question. She shrugged her shoulders and looked at Nick and then back to his mother. "If there was, or is, anyone like that it would have to have been someone he knew from the Civil War. Everyone I know loves my grandfather. He has a huge heart made of gold."

Victoria might have said more only the sound of someone approaching the cabin could be heard once more. When Nick looked out the window, he was surprised to see Jarrod riding up on Jingo. Nick quickly stepped outside, after telling the women he'd be right back, and practically flew down the steps to where Jarrod had stopped his horse.

"What's up?" Nick asked once his older brother had dismounted Jingo.

"How are our guests doing?" Jarrod asked as he led his horse towards the same post Nick had Coco tethered to.

"Rachel's doing pretty good, everything considering. Her grandfather is pretty bad. Doc left here not two minutes before you rode up. I'm surprised you didn't see him." Nick answered as Jarrod turned away from the horses.

"I saw him, just didn't do more than wave at him though. Didn't want to waste time visiting," Jarrod, who looked to make sure the side window was closed, kept his voice low.

The fact that Jarrod's voice was soft and he was continually looking around, put Nick on high alert. "Just what did the Pinkertons find out?"

Jarrod glanced towards the cabin. "They said they were told a former captain by the name of Clark Welch was, and I quote, 'combing every inch of Missouri looking for Doctor Conner Londrach'." His eyes asked 'Do you catch what I did?"

Nick, who had indeed heard the same thing as Jarrod, scratched his chin. "Doctor, not Sergeant…this Captain Welch was a guard at Carterson wasn't he? That's where he knows Conner from."

"That or Bull Creek, Missouri. It's the first town Conner Londrach lived in after the War….and it's Clark Welch's home town. It's very small, most everyone thinks they know everything about each person in the town." Jarrod replied.

"Do the Pinkertons know where Mr. Welch is now?" Nick looked around even as he asked the question.

"Only that's he's not in Missouri the best they can tell." Jarrod also surveyed the area around them.

"Come inside for a bit, but leave it to me to talk to Rachel about this, ok?" Nick again looked around the area. "You might as well come in and eat a bite before you leave."

Due to the look that had appeared in Nick's eyes when he talked about Rachel, Jarrod wondered just what-if anything-was going on between Miss Anderson and his brother. However, before he could ask, Nick-who could pretty well guess what his brother was thinking-due to the look in Jarrod's eyes, gave him a look that asked his older brother a looked that asked him to think again. "Her grandfather may be passing through death's door; do you really think I'm pursuing 'that' issue at the moment?"

Jarrod smiled just a little as he went to tether Jingo to the hitching post while Nick went back into the cabin.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Conner Londrach let out a small groan as he opened his eyes. He was relieved to see Rachel sitting alongside the cot, but he was surprised to see Nick standing at the foot of the bed. "How long have I been sick?" He asked as he looked at Rachel, feeling-and sounding- weaker than he had in ages.

"Close to two weeks, we almost lost you." Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes, though only a few escaped. "Nick," she said as she nodded towards the dark haired rancher, "and his family have been a huge help. I'll go get you some broth."

After she walked into the kitchen, an awkward silence fell into the room. Nick, who had moved to the chair near Mr. Londrach, wanted to talk to the gentleman about Clark Welch. However, he didn't know where to start…especially seeing how the man was still quite weak. However, before he could say anything, Conner solved Nick's dilemma by starting the conversation.

"Who knows we're here?" Conner asked after looking towards his granddaughter, then back to Nick.

"My family and Dr. Merar," Nick replied and then, hesitating only a moment, started to confess more only to have Rachel walk back up to the bed.

"We need to talk, Grandpa, but you must get some nourishment and get some rest first." Rachel handed him the cup of broth-after Nick helped the older man sit up and adjusted the pillows behind him.

Conner wasn't blind. He could tell something serious was on Rachel and Nick's minds. It concerned him, as he wondered just what he'd said while he'd been so ill. "No, first, you tell me what is goin' on. You're a good lass, and I won't be lyin' here wonderin' what is on your mind. Tell me up front, and don't be beatin' around any bush."

"Nick wants to help us, grandfather…as does his family. That is, if you'll let them." Rachel sat on the edge of the bed.

"Just what do you know, and how?" Conner's eyes went from his granddaughter to Nick. The message was clear…'Don't tell me you know nothing. I can tell different.'

Nick, who could hear just how tired the man still was, sighed. He wished the stubborn gentleman would wait until he was stronger to have this conversation. Though, not feeling like fighting the man either, Nick confessed what he had done due to his concern for Conner's granddaughter. "With that all said and done, don't go blaming Rachel. She had no idea I'd ask Jarrod to quietly poke around with the help of friends."

Conner had a ray of emotions run through him. A part of him wanted to get enough strength to double up his fist and hit Nick across the jaw; the other part would be forever grateful the well known rancher cared enough to get involved. "Did I say anythin' in my fevered state of mind? Has your brother found out anythin'?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Nick nodded in the affirmative to both questions. "Is this Clark Welch the man you're running from? If he is, why would Rachel be in any danger?" From the many talks he'd had with Rachel, learning a lot about her and her upbringing during those talks, Nick couldn't see where she'd done anything that warranted Conner Londrach being worried about getting her to a place of safety-as he'd muttered more than once.

Conner didn't answer for a few minutes, as he was too shocked to hear he'd implied that Rachel was at risk of being hurt in some way. Finally, he assured Nick that Rachel was in no danger. "She might have been durin' the war, what with the area she and my daughter were livin' in- but not since it ended. In my feverish state of mind, I must have been mixin' the past with the present." He paused, though he kept his eyes on both Nick and Rachel. They kept their attention on him. Finally, Conner let out a sigh. "Yes, Clark Welch was at Carterson. He didn't like how I would tend to the younger prisoners in the camp only he left me alone because he couldn't get the other guards or the commander on his side. I think if I had been doctorin' the older soldiers as well, he would have turned them against me eventually." He shook his head slightly. "It's not that I didn't want to help the others. However, the truth was the older ones wouldn't let me. They were sure all I wanted to do was make them worse than what they already were. Captain Welch was also less thrilled to find me livin' in the same town as him for a couple of years. Tried to make trouble fer me a couple of times, but never could make his lies stick." His voice started to fade; however, he fought to stay awake in order to explain why the former Confederate officer was after him.

"Please, grandpa, we can finish this later. You need to rest." Rachel quickly stood up and leaned over the older gentleman.

Nick was relieved when Mr. Londrach stopped struggling to stay awake and slipped into a restful sleep. Then, due to the look he'd caught in Rachel's eyes when Jarrod mentioned Mr. Welch-along with the look that had appeared on her face when her grandfather verified that Mr. Welch was a former prison guard, he stood upand nodded towards the door. "Let's talk outside."

Rachel might have argued only, seeing her grandfather was fever free and resting peacefully, she smiled. "Good idea; we don't need to wake grandfather while we visit."

Once outside Rachel leaned up against the outside of the cabin, her arms crossed and folded while she stared up at the darkening sky. She hoped stars would dot the sky by the time any sign of daylight had left.

"You think your grandfather's not being quite honest? You think this Welch fellow is after both of you?" Nick couldn't see any other reason for what he'd seen in her eyes.

"No," she replied rather forcibly. "Grandfather is as honest as the day is long. That is, if he says Mr. Welch is no threat to me, he isn't. However," she shrugged her shoulders as she shook her head slightly. "I think I am the reason my grandfather is running."

"HUH?" Nick looked at her in confusion, but only for a second. Then, he straightened up as her words about her and her grandfather only having each other came back full force. "You have family in Wyoming and Montana?"

"He has good friends. I think he fears something happening to him and me finding myself alone. Only," she stepped away from the cabin, as she rubbed her left arm with her right hand. "I can't figure out why, if it's the war and the things my grandfather did in it, Mr. Welch has waited this long before trying anything?"

Nick found himself thinking of *Major Eliot, along with everything connected to that man's situation before he'd wound up dead. He also thought of others that simply refused to let old wounds heal and, eventually, lashed out in anger. He didn't know what Mr. Welch's case was only there was still no way Nick was going to simply turn his back on Conner Londrach or Rachel. "I don't know." Nick stepped closer and pulled Rachel into a warm embrace. "Only don't go worrying your pretty head about it. You and your grandfather will be just fine."

Rachel returned the hug and then stepped back. "Thanks, Nick. You're proving to be a solid friend."

_"Maybe, someday, we'll be more than friends."_ Nick thought as he followed Rachel back into the cabin.

*Character from the Episode "In Silent Battle"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Previously:

"_Maybe; someday, we'll be more than friends." Nick thought as he followed Rachel back into the cabin._

"We'll put him in the guest room." Nick said as McColl, another ranch hand and Heath carried their visitor in on a stretcher. The dark haired rancher had talked long and hard to convince their guest to allow them to move him to the main house after Dr. Merar okayed the move. Rachel was behind them.

Victoria walked around the corner of the hallway just in time to see what was happening. "Why don't you come and relax in the living room." She smiled at Rachel.

"Thank you, Mrs. Barkley." Rachel said-after her grandfather spoke up and told her not to even think of refusing the offer.

Once she was seated on the sofa, Victoria offered her a drink only to be turned down politely. "Never have cared much for any type of alcohol, but I'm sure once grandfather is up and about he'll be more than happy to take you up on such an offer."

Victoria figured she was going to find out more about Miss Anderson. She might not have made that decision only she'd seen the way Rachel and Nick had looked at each other a time or two. "Nick says you're the only one left in your family. That is, your parents and siblings are all dead."

"They are." Rachel glanced towards the foyer and the staircase that led up to the rooms on the second floor. "I have second cousins and such, but mother's side is mostly in Ireland, and my father's side?" Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "What few they are? I couldn't rightly say at the moment, haven't heard from many of them since the Civil War ended. It's just me and grandfather…if he will listen to the doctor, he might just be around a few more years." _'The high fever lasted too long and weakened his heart. He'll have to take it easy and follow my instructions once you get him to your house.' _The good doctor's words rang in Rachel's ears as she replied to the Barkley matriarch.

Victoria didn't have to ask if the young woman's family had been torn apart by the Civil War. The statement Miss Anderson had just made, along with the far away look in her eyes, gave Victoria the answer to that question. She also hoped Mr. Londrach would listen to Dr. Merar. She continued questioning the young woman-without coming across as interrogating her.

While Victoria and Rachel visited Nick and Heath were making sure Conner Londrach was comfortable in the bed he'd been laid in. Once the two brothers had done that, Heath left the room. Once his brother shut the door, Nick looked at Conner Londrach and told him, "Doc is going to come out and look you over tomorrow. However, I think you'll be up and around in a week, if not less. Depends on that heart of yours," Nick paused, a more than serious look appeared in his eyes. Then, taking a deep breath, he continued. "I wanted to ask you to stay here, with us. If this Clark Welch does show up in Stockton-or on this ranch, we'll be here to help you. Before you say you won't live off charity, you wouldn't have to. Doc's okayed you fixing harnesses and doing other light work once you're out of bed. Rachel has told me more than once how much she enjoys cooking, sewing and other chores that are done around a home. We were just getting ready to look for part time help in the kitchen-for when Silas needs to go away. Also we need a new housekeeper. Miss Hansen, our regular one, gave us notice she's moving back to Texas-to help take care of an ailing mother."

Conner Londrach, who had been starting to get uptight, relaxed. He'd fled Missouri the moment he'd found out Mr. Welch was looking for him. His whole focus had been to make sure Rachel wasn't alone when he was killed, and he was convinced he wouldn't be long for this world once Mr. Welch and he crossed paths. Then, due to the fact that he-like Victoria-had seen the way Nick had looked at Rachel-asked very bluntly, "Just what be your intentions towards my granddaughter, Mr. Barkley."

Nick chuckled inside. He should have known that question was coming sooner or later. "First off," he smiled, "The name is Nick. Second," He grasped the top of the bed's footboard and grew serious. "If she'll let me, and you have no objection, I want to court her." He glanced towards the slightly open bedroom door, and lowered his voice, "She's the best cook in California aside from Mother, but don't tell Silas I said that. There's nothing wrong with his cooking either."

Mr. Londrach couldn't help it; he started laughing. "Aye lad, no honest man on this earth could walk away from Rachel's dinin' room and rightly say he was still hungry!" However, his smile and laughter quickly disappeared as his thoughts turned to the other matter at hand. "I don't wish to bring any trouble to your door; lad, only it will come if I stay. Take my word for it, do you really want to deal with it?"

"My family and I are more than happy to stand beside you only, I admit, it would be nice to know what this is all about." Nick let go of the footboard and walked towards the head of the bed.

"I heard you and your blonde haired brother talkin' on the way back here. He was tellin' you more about Carterson, the guards and Commander Bentall and how I'd help the younger prisoners." Conner sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened his eyes back up and looked at Nick, his eyes asking the dark haired rancher to confirm what Conner had just said.

"He did." Nick pulled a chair over and sat down. "Said that, aside from some of the other prisoners, you were an extremely bright light to an otherwise very dark place. He also said everyone there-on both sides-were extremely grateful the day you went from being a soldier to a doctor."

Conner got a far away look in his eye, "After my commander became aware of my desire to become a doctor, he gave me two choices….go train under a Southern doctor in a Confederate hospital or wait until after the war was over-knowing he'd pay for most of my training. It was a generous offer and I almost took it-feeling that; maybe, I should continue fighting alongside my comrades. In the end, I chose the former. Such a small thing in my eyes…what did it matter which I did. Either way I was in the service of the South."

"Something happened that made Mr. Welch think differently, and he blames you for not being there to help stop it." Nick looked at him as if to ask not only if he was correct, but to ask-if that was the case- why Mr. Welch hadn't done anything when the two men lived in the same town.

"First, there's something Heath couldn't tell you because he didn't know, and something the Pinkertons missed. Before you ask, how I know that they missed it…think."

Nick didn't have to think long before he had the answer to that one. "If they hadn't, Jarrod would have told us something different."

Conner fidgeted and asked Nick to help adjust the pillows behind him, something Nick gladly did. Once Conner was more comfortable, he let out a tired sigh. "Mr. Welch made threats against me more than once while at Carterson, and again when we found ourselves in the same town, but never actually tried to carry the threats out. I thought he had actually gotten over it until I found out he was looking for me."

"And just what is 'it'?" Nick asked, doing his best to rein in his impatient side. "Just what happened that made this Clark Welch hate you so bad, and what did the Pinkertons miss?"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The streets of *Crested Butte, Colorado were empty and the sun's light was almost gone by the time Clarke Welch rode into town. He was glad it was the middle of summer, or he'd probably have frozen to death before he ever got a chance to get more supplies. As it was, he passed by one building after another looking for the town's livery stable. It didn't take long to locate the business, and he was soon standing inside the establishment handing the reins of his horse to the livery stable employee.

"You're lucky you rode in when you did. I close at eight thirty." Mr. Topkins, a salt and peppered haired gentleman, smiled at the brown haired, brown eyed stranger in town.

"Glad I made then," Clarke glanced towards the door and asked about a place to spend the night. "I want something besides the cold ground tonight."

"Mitchell's boarding house might have something; they're in middle of town. There's also a small hotel within a short distance of the boarding house. However, from this direction, you'll get to Mitchells first." Then, due to the fact that he could see the conditions of the man's clothes weren't exactly the best, Mr. Topkins took pity on the stranger. "If, by chance, they're both full you can come back here. The loft isn't much, but there is a blanket up there. Also, the hay will help keep you warm." Mr. Topkins pointed towards the loft, leaving off the fact that the man's appearance implied he might not be able to afford the cost of a room.

"Thanks," Clarke turned around and walked out the door. As he headed towards the boarding house, Clarke's mind wandered back through time. He'd been born to a Kentucky coalminer and his wife. Both were hard working, God fearing people who would eventually be blessed with ten children-though only six would live to adulthood. While he and his siblings had never known extreme poverty, their parents had never had a lot of worldly wealth either. Up until the war, he, his siblings and their cousins had seen each other as often as possible. The good times they'd had were precious memories.

However, as his memories drew closer to the present, he sighed. The Civil War had ripped his family apart. He and his one brother had joined the Confederate army while his youngest brother had signed up with a Northern unit. His three brothers-in-law had also been divided…two uniting with the North while the other one had served in Clarke's unit until Clarke had been made a guard at Carterson.

Carterson…Clarke wanted to scream as he walked up the few steps that led to the boarding house. In spite of what numerous people thought, it had been Hell to more than one side-at least to him and a few of the other guards it had been. It might not have felt that way only the one secret he and those guards had kept from the other men serving with them – along with keeping silent around Commander Bentall-was that a few of those prisoners were their own relatives. His memory went back to one particular incident that happened shortly before the camp learned of General Lee's surrender to the North.

_"You should have listened to Aaron! You should have asked the doc to help ya with that leg when you got here!" Clarke, who stood inside Bentall's office, glared from one cousin to the other one. "You wouldn't be in such bad shape now!"_

_The two Condon brothers, who didn't want to admit any fault, both snapped and lied, "We did!" Aaron then claimed the man had refused because they were among the older prisoners. "Make him do something, and we have some information for you!" Aaron looked at Matt Bentall._

Clarke came out of his thoughts long enough to ask Mrs. Mitchell, a plump Germany woman, if she had any rooms available. "I only need it for one night. I'll be moving on in the morning." He told her as he stood in the small living room which consisted of a couch, a credenza, a bookcase and a table with a lamp with a plain white shade.

"You're in luck. I thought I had the room rented out for the week." Mrs. Mitchell pulled a key out of the pocket in her long blue skirt. "I have the key on me because the people were supposed to come in tonight only I received word a few minutes ago their plans have changed." She handed the key to her guest and told him breakfast was served anywhere from six to nine in the morning. "Though, I need a time. If you're a late eater, I don't want your food getting cold."

"I'll be ready by seven." Clark took the key and made his way up the stairs and into the room. Once inside he threw what little he had with him onto a chair, kicked off his boots and started washing up. As he did so, he thought on what had started him thinking about his cousins and Doctor Londrach.

Reaching into his pocket, Clark pulled out an envelope that was in it. As far as his cousins were concerned he was living off the money they'd given him. They were clueless as to just how much money Clarke had accumulated since the war. He shook his head. His cousins had hired him because of how vocal he'd been when it came to how he felt about Conner Londrach. That is, how vocal he'd been for many years. What his cousins hadn't counted on, what he hadn't expected, was for Clark to run into one person after another who were more than willing to tell the former prison guard just what they thought about the kind hearted Irishman…and just how little water his cousins' words really held.

Clark slipped the envelope back into his pant pocket, made his way to the bed and lay down. For the first time in ages, he realized he was seriously questioning the path he was on. However, all he could do for the moment was close his eyes and slip into a restless sleep.

A/N Crested Butte, Colorado actually exists. However, I'm not taking time to research just what it looks like etc. Simply using writer's liberty,


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"Thanks, Nick." Rachel walked alongside Nick. They were on a dirt path hat led to a small stream that ran through the ranch. She'd accepted the invitation to go on a picnic with him-after she'd checked on her grandfather. She and the older gentleman had had one very long, serious talk. "It's been so long since I've been able to simply relax. I didn't realize how good it would feel."

Nick smiled. He liked the fact that the stressful feeling that had surrounded the young woman was gone…at least for the moment it was. "Thank _you_," He said as he ducked an overhanging branch. He stopped as they reached the stream and laid out the checkered blanket he had carried, draped over his left arm. It wasn't long before they were seated on the ground and eating the chicken Rachel had cooked to bring on their outing. "I was half afraid you wouldn't come. You were in your grandfather's bedroom for almost an hour talking. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad."

Rachel looked away for a minute and then, sighing, turned her attention back to Nick. Naturally, this also got the famous rancher's attention. "Grandfather is extremely grateful that you came along, and that you and your family helped us. He's also so very concerned about any form of courtship between us." Nick took a deep breath, feeling pretty sure he knew where the older man's hesitation was coming from. "The War ripped many families apart back then. In spite of the fact that the conflict ended a number of years ago, he still fears the same would-eventually-happen to us. That is, he thinks any union between us would eventually end due to our differences."

Rachel nodded. "He does, and I can't blame him." She paused and then shook her head slowly. "I know the War is over, but the country is still very much divided. Well, as far as we're concerned it is. I fear the crack may never truly heal and will, sooner or later, grow large enough to tear this country apart worse than we can ever imagine." She then admitted she'd almost backed out of having lunch with Nick. "We're friends, Nick. I _do_ like you, _a lot_. However, I don't know that there can truly be any thing more than friendship between us. This part of California was very much for the Union, and I'm from the South. Yes, my grandfather saved your life and helped the younger prisoners in Carterson…he still wore the Confederate uniform, a fact that he is not sorry about in any shape or form."

When it came to the North and South, Nick hated to admit it only he feared the same thing. However, it didn't change the way he felt. "A man has the right to stand and fight for what he believes in. I admire your grandfather for that. I still want to court you. All right, maybe it won't work out, only we can see. Can't we?" He paused and then added, "I do have to say I've always wondered why he helped me. Helping the prisoners at Carterson-or the ones who would accept his help-I can understand. But, he wasn't a doctor when he saved my life, and he told me he'd never helped a Union officer. Every time I've tried to ask him, something gets in the way of his answering me." He laid the chicken bones down on a napkin that lay on the blanket and kept his eyes on Rachel.

Rachel smiled. While she had acknowledged her grandfather's concerns were valid and that she had a tendency to agree, she liked Nick Barkley just enough to want to find out if there could indeed be more between them in spite of everything. "When it comes to us, I suppose can give it a shot." Her smiled faded just a little as she thought on the story her grandfather had finally told her when it came to Nick and himself. "You'd have to talk to grandpa yourself. I mean, to get the whole story. All I know for sure is he didn't have to stay away from his unit for as long as his commander had given him. He'd stayed just long enough to attend the funeral and headed back, said he felt as if someone was urging him to leave early. That's when he stumbled-quite literally, across you." She shrugged her shoulders. "He said you were injured quite badly and, looking back on it, probably wouldn't have lasted long if he hadn't started tending to your wound."

"He's never told you what made him do that?" Nick asked, not really surprised to hear what the older man had told his granddaughter.

"No," Rachel flicked her wrist. "He might have only one thing after another would get in the way while we were talking. So, eventually, I decided it just didn't matter. Though, I always got the impression it wasn't anything that he really wanted to keep a secret, just that life kept getting in the way of his telling me is all."

Nick could understand that one. Still… "I'll have to corner him on the subject some time." He then watched as Rachel stood up and walked to the bank of the stream. He stood up and followed her.

"So, with all the talks we had while tending to your grandfather, you have yet to tell your favorite childhood memory. Remember, I asked you that shortly after your grandfather woke up…and then went back to sleep."

Rachel bent over, scooped up a handful of water and sent it flying all over Nick. He jumped back, and she started laughing. "Doing that to my brothers, friends and cousins is the answer to your question! We had a pond near our home and were in it as much as possible during the summer."

"We went swimming when we could." Nick grinned wide as he too scooped some water up into his hand. "We did similar things."

The two continued laughing and having a small water fight, though they stopped short of getting each other soaking wet. By the time they finished, and gathered up their things, Nick was more determined than ever to seriously court Rachel.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

_**Previously:**_

_The two continued laughing and having a small water fight, though they stopped short of getting each other soaking wet. By the time they finished, and gathered up their things, Nick was more determined than ever to seriously court Rachel…in spite of everything._

The moment Nick drove the surrey back into the yard he'd known something was wrong. There had to be, Dr. Merar had driven out of the gate moments before Nick and Rachel arrived, and Jarrod was standing next to the corral looking than serious.

"Conner?" Nick stiffened as he automatically thought the worst.

Rachel, who had been relaxed, also stiffened as her eyes begged Jarrod to tell him her grandfather was all right.

"He's fine." Jarrod gave Rachel a smile. "I need to talk to Nick though."

Nick, who had climbed out of the surrey, helped Rachel down. Once she headed for the house, he asked Ciego to take care of the surrey and horses. "If big brother needs to talk to me, I'd appreciate your help."

"Si, Mr. Barkley. I would be more than happy to take care of things." Ciego smiled and led the horses away.

Once the faithful ranch hand was out of ear shot, Nick leaned on the corral and asked what had Jarrod, whose smile had disappeared, looking so serious. "Have the Pinkertons located this Clarke Welch?"

Jarrod, whose side was also against the fence, tapped the top board. "They had a man on another job bump into him outside Crested Butte, Colorado. At the time their man didn't know the agency had any interest in the former captain or talking with him."

"What else did their man say? Is Welch heading this way or not?" Nick glanced towards the house. More specifically, he glanced up towards the bedroom Conner was using. The bedroom window could be clearly be seen from where the hot tempered rancher stood.

"If Conner passed through that town then; yes, most likely we will be dealing with Mr. Welch sooner or later." Jarrod, who had also looked up at the bedroom window, sighed. "That's not the only thing we need to talk about."

"What else is there?" A look of confusion, mixed with concern, filled Nick's eyes. He didn't like the idea there was something else popping up for the family to deal with.

Jarrod sighed. "I would appreciate it if you will hear me out. I say that because I can guarantee the first thing out of my mouth will light your short fuse if you're not prepared to do such a thing."

"Rachel." Nick instantly straightened up and stiffened, putting his hands on his hips as he did so. "This is about my seeing Rachel."

"Nick, please, I don't hate the young woman nor do I have any hard feelings towards her grandfather. I don't care if they're from the South, and I admire the kind of man he is." Jarrod spoke in earnest and sincerity. Those two things-his earnestness and sincerity-seemed to dim the fire in Nick's eyes just a little.

"Then why do you feel the need to talk to me?" Nick snapped. "To tell me how folks around this area might or might not feel about it? I'm not a child, Jarrod. I know all that."

"If we have to deal with Mr. Welch and any of the town people at the same time…" Jarrod started only to have Nick interrupt and point out all the times they'd dealt with more than one matter. "I'm courting her, dear brother. Only question is…will you be the first to push us away?" He eyed Jarrod as if to add 'well?' to the sentence.

Jarrod still didn't like the idea, but he shook his head and exhaled. "No," he did his best to relax as he turned slightly and rested his back against the fence, folding his arms and rubbing his left upper arm as he did so. "Still wonder about the wisdom of doing such a thing at this time, only I won't say another word on the matter." 'Might think it, but I won't say it.' Jarrod added quietly to himself.

"Thanks," Nick too relaxed and let his arms drop to his sides as he turned to go towards the house. "Best tell Heath what you told me; after all, if he knows Mr. Welch is coming this way, he'll keep his eyes open even wider than he is now. Remember, he knows what the man looks like."

Jarrod only nodded as Nick then turned and walked back towards the house. His blond haired brother knowing what Clarke Welch looked like would help out immensely IF Heath saw the man before he got close enough to do any damage. When it came to his concerns, Jarrod put them off to the side, telling himself all he could do was to hope for the best. He shook himself out of his thoughts and headed for the house. He had work to do in his study. When he walked into the living room, he was surprised, but not entirely shocked, to hear their mother and Nick arguing. Though, to their credit, the two were actually keeping their voices low…probably due to the fact that Mr. Londrach and Rachel were still their guests in the home. He thought about stepping into the living room and joining the discussion…then turned and headed straight for the study. The last thing he needed was to get himself all worked up before he had his latest briefs finished.

"Jarrod already said basically the same thing." Nick, frustrated at the fact that his mother was voicing the same concerns as his older brother only; unlike Jarrod, she wasn't backing down. While he didn't want to ask his own mother the same question he'd asked Jarrod, he couldn't see where he had any choice. Victoria was making it impossible for him to do otherwise. He took a deep breath and then asked the same question he'd asked Jarrod. "Well? We do have the guest house, and I still know where a line shack is." Nick's hands were once again on his hips while his eyes were spitting fire—even if he was succeeding in controlling the volume of his voice. However, before Victoria could make any sort of reply, a knock came on the door.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Nick, who made his way to Conner Londrach's room, took a chair and turned it so the back of the chair was facing him. That is, after Rachel had left the room. "Fred just left here." Nick said as he sat on the chair and rested his folded arms on the top of the piece of furniture. He wasn't surprised when confusion appeared in the older man's eyes. "Our sheriff," Nick added for clarification.

Shock replaced the confusion, along with concern. Since the doctor had said it was okay if Conner got out of bed whenever he wanted to, Conner sat up and swung his legs off the bed. "I have broken no laws that I know of, lad. What was he wantin'? And don't tell me nothin'. You look far to serious to make me think he was here simply visitin' your family."

"Jarrod found out that he was going to one of our neighbors and asked him to stop by here as well." Nick sighed. "My brother received a telegram from one of his friends with the Pinkertons. The man is in Salt Lake City, Utah…on some business."

Conner groaned silently. He just knew who Jarrod's friend had seen and what Nick wanted to know. "No need to say anymore. He's gettin' closer." He slowly stood up and walked to the window. He could see Rachel visiting with Audra; the two young women were playing with a small puppy. "Before you ask; yes, Rachel and I stopped there." He turned away from the window. "We can leave here, Nick. There's no need for you have to deal with my problems."

"No," Nick stood up, pushing the chair out of his way before he joined Conner by the window. "I meant what I said before. We have work for the two of you here, and we'll have your back. Please, don't go."

Conner, who still had his eyes on his granddaughter and Miss Audra, took a deep breath. "It's not just the trouble Mr. Welch will bring that is causin' me concern." He turned and looked straight at Nick.

"Jarrod and Mother have talked to you?" Nick asked upon seeing a mixture of emotions in their guest's eyes.

"No, but if they don't want a man who is laid up to hear any part of their conversation," Conner said as he gestured towards the bedroom door-which Rachel had shut on her way out, "they should make sure that man's door is closed tight before they start talkin' in the hallway." He walked slowly back to the bed and sat back down, not all that surprised to find himself feeling twenty years older than he really was. "Before you ask, I won't stop you from courtin' Rachel. Twenty-three years of age is old enough to make up one's own mind, but lad-think. While I can't say anyone would do the two of you any physical harm, I can almost guarantee ya, they won't be handin' out any invitations to anythin' either."

"And they never talk badly about me, judge me or turn their backs on any of us now? The ones who have stood with us in the past would stand with us now. The ones who have turned away will turn away again." Nick gave him a half chuckle as he sat on the chair. He then stopped laughing in any form. "I'm not out to win some sort of popularity contest. I want only two things at the moment….to keep you alive and to court Rachel with your blessing. If things don't work out between us, I could still help the two of you find a place to live… in whatever town or state you wish to live in."

Conner felt a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He wasn't sure if the Barkleys could help keep him alive or not, only that wasn't really important to him. After all, as far as he was concerned, he'd had a good life. No, the only thing that truly mattered to him was knowing Rachel was taken care of. She was young and had a lot of life to live. However…. "There's a third item you left out." Conner raised one eyebrow, a look that dared Nick to deny that fact.

Nick tapped the top of the chair and admitted he'd still like to know what made it so Conner was willing to take the risk he had during the war. "I know it's over and done with; still, I'd like to know what motivated you to take the chance of being killed as a traitor to the Confederacy."

For a few moments, Conner remained silent. Just as Nick prepared to tell the Irishman not to worry about it, the family's guest began to talk.

_The sun was already setting as Conner gathered up the few items he'd brought with him. His siblings had protested, telling him there was no need for him to leave right away. Conner had told them different, said he knew he had to leave-though he could not tell them why. "I can't be explainin' what I don't know, only to say I have the strongest impression I need to." He called over his shoulder as he exited his father's home and headed for his horse. _

_The normally dependable horse would prove to be a little worth on the trip back to his unit. The animal had the misfortune of falling after stepping into a hole, subsequentially breaking its leg. While he did not like it, and it broke his heart, Conner shot the faithful animal. If it was only the incident with his horse, Conner would have thought that it was the only reason he'd felt impressed to leave early. Only thing was, he hadn't walked a mile before he literally felt as if someone was pulling him to his left._

"I thought; maybe, the stress of attendin' my Da's funeral only to turn around and findin' it necessary to put my horse down, I was slippin'." Conner shrugged his shoulder. "Still, I figured 'why not'?"

"How far did you walk until you stumbled onto me?" Nick asked, amazed to hear that some unforeseen force had been behind getting him the help he desperately needed.

"A mile-maybe." Conner then stunned Nick adding, "But that force I felt wasn't the reason I helped you." A look of sadness flashed across Conner's eyes as he thought on all the men who had been wounded, killed or simply died of sickness, during the war between the states. "I'm sorry to admit my initial reaction to seein' a Union officer lyin' gravely wounded on the hard ground was not a good one."

Nick understood and nodded slightly. "The first thought you had was I should be put down the same way your horse had been?"

"Hate to have to admit it, lad, but yes. For a split second, I told myself I would be doin' the enemy a favor." Conner ran his hand through his white hair.

"Why didn't you? What made you decide different?" Nick asked, shivering just a little as he again thought how close he'd come to being yet another causality of war.

For the first time since Nick had entered the man's room, Conner started smiling. It confused Nick. His confusion grew when the older man replied, "You."

"Me? What did I say?" Nick asked, knowing he couldn't have done anything as badly as he'd been hurt.

"You were moanin' and talkin'. Said your name along with your rank, among other things." Conner replied, "Just as I had that unacceptable temptation speak in me ear you cried out 'We're comin' Mrs. Mulligan! Hang on!"

For a split second, Nick's eyebrows went down. Mrs. Mulligan? Hang on? Though, the turned down eyebrows shot up as a long forgotten memory came to the front of his mind. "The only Mrs. Mulligan that I ever knew; well, the only one I ever had cause to yell that to, was a widow with three children. I was with my father; we were going to look at some cattle. I couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen. The woman and her children were caught in a flash flood. Father and I were able to get her and two of the children out. Sadly, the third child couldn't keep a hold of the branch he was holding onto-it was a branch that was attached to a fallen tree. We never found him. Always felt so bad for her, but what has that got to do with you risking everything to get me the help I needed?"

Conner didn't answer for a moment then, with a bittersweet light in his eyes, he stunned Nick beyond measure. "Her name was Brydie Londrach Mulligan; she was my sister."

Nick, who felt as if he's fallen of his chair, stared at Conner. "Your sister!"

"Yes, my sister. Her husband had died of Typhoid. She and her wee ones were goin' to live with my da." Conner smiled. "She told us all about 'Mr. Tom Barkley and his fine son, Nick'. She wanted to pay you for your trouble, but do you remember what you and your father told her after you'd done all you could to find her lost child?"

Nick let out a deep breath. "'No need to pay us, we just did what we could. Though, we're sorry we couldn't save all your family.' Father went on to tell her to simply help others around her as payment."

Conner nodded. "I realized the Nick Barkley lyin' wounded on the ground was the same young man who had, with the help of his own da, saved the live of Brydie and two of her three children. I couldn't shoot you, and face her later. Before you ask, no, I never told her about you. She only stayed with my da for a couple of years before remarryin' and movin' back to Ireland. Later, we received word she passed on. Now," Conner stood up slowly. "I don't know when or where the 'good' captain will be makin' his appearance only I need to leave this room. A body could go up a wall stayin' in bed too long!"

Nick laughed, agreed and followed Mr. Londrach as the gentleman walked out of the room.


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter Fifteen_

_A/N One thing I realized I needed to say -because I had failed to put the fact into a previous chapter and didn't know how to fit it in here-Conner's father died towards the first of the war. His mother was supposed to have remarried during the war. _

_A/N I knew there was a third connection between Conner Londrach and the Barkleys only I never expected this! _

_A/N This are added sentences in this than what is over at the BV site. Had to figure out what was bugging me and…. _

Conner, who had seen Silas through the kitchen's slightly opened door, made his way into the kitchen. The long time, faithful servant-who was standing by the counter cutting up vegetables, looked up. For a moment nothing was said. That changed as a wide smile spread across Silas' face. "It's good to see you up and around, Mr. Londrach."

"I told you years ago, the name is Conner." Conner pulled one of the Barkleys' brown chairs away from the table and sat down. "I wanted to thank you for never tellin' anyone before the War that you and I had met. I never got a chance too, not properly anyway. Though, I must admit, as close as you and the Barkleys seem to be- I don't get the impression they know of the connection between us."

Silas pushed the carrots that he'd been dicing aside and looked at Conner Londrach. "You fed me and saved my life. I promised myself never to speak of you after you did that-in order to protect you from those who would seek revenge on you. I mean, if I had said something, anything, that had brought harm to you? I would never been able to live with myself." He walked over to the table and sat down. "Though, I was confused then and, I must admit, I still am. In some way you remind me of 'the North'; however, on the other hand you are very much 'Southern'. "

Conner leaned back as he could see himself standing in the loft of his barn looking at the runaway slave in the corner. "What you be askin' is why, when I was on furglough, I let you get away with hidin' in the barn, why I fed you and visited with you until your contact slipped into the barn and whistled softly- as a signal they were there."

Silas nodded. "You let me go, but you fought for the South-and you had slaves of your own."

"First off, I never owned another man." Conner sat up straight, and looked Silas in the eyes. "That is somethin' you thought because you saw some of your people on what you assumed to be just my land."

Silas opened his mouth part way and then closed it. The man in front of him was right. That was exactly what happened. "It wasn't your land? They weren't slaves?"

"The land belonged to my step-da, but I have never called him that. Why should I when I was full grown and in the war before he and mum married?" Conner relaxed and tapped the table. "Anyway, he hated seein' your people's families torn apart like they were. He thought about it for awhile and, after he bought the small plantation-which was years before he ever met my mum, he came up with a plan. Yes, he did buy some slaves; _however_," Conner leaned forward just a little. "He would buy families and then sit down with the parents. He promised if they worked for him for three years without causin' him any problems, he would give them their freedom, help them to get to an area that did not practice slavery and even help them find work, along with a place to live. I'm not sayin' it was right or wrong, only he was a good enough man livin' life the best he knew how." Conner took a breath and added, "With all that said and done, you know as well as I do the war was over states rights and economics, among a few other things. Slavery was never one of the reasons. If anything, it became a side issue as the war dragged on longer than any of us thought it would." Conner let it out a deep, slow breath. "I was torn when it became apparent that tensions were growin' worse. I felt strongly that, sooner or later, we'd be looking at a war between the North and the South. I hated it; I wanted to change it, but I couldn't. On one hand I could see the North's side, only I could see the South's side as well. The internal struggle I had inside me wasn't easy to face, nor did I choose to fight for the South overnight. Though, once my choice was made it was set in stone. When it comes to you and your situation," Conner shrugged his shoulders again. "I knew your master better than you did. He had no business being in charge of anyone, free or not. World became a better place the day he drowned in the Mississippi River, though you're the only person I'll say that to. It's not very nice, and I only say it to you because you knew the man."

Silas nodded. His former master had been cruel and unfeeling. More than once one of the man's slaves had felt the sting of the whip over something that wasn't really all that important. Then, due to the fact that both he and Conner could see out the kitchen window, Silas nodded towards the scene they could both see…Nick and Rachel were standing next to the clothes line talking. Silas could see the concern in his former rescuer's eyes. "They're grown adults. They'll be fine." Silas gave another smile to Conner.

Conner chuckled just a little and shook his head slightly. "Humor an agin' gentleman. She's all I've had for a few years. Well, might as well be the only one. I want to see her happy, not hurt. The same thing for him-even if we did fight on the opposite sides of the War."

Silas nodded as he and Conner talked about the past, present and their hopes for the future.

~oOo~

It was almost ten o'clock at night before Clarke Welch made camp on the Utah/Nevada border. It had been a long frustrating day, starting with a lousy breakfast which had been prepared by an inexperienced cook to his horse throwing a shoe. Even though the sun had set, the hired gun could still see the mountains off in the distance._'The old man was talking about Reno, but I don't know why he was heading for those mountains. There's more direct routes to take.'_ The innkeeper's words rang in the Clarke's ears. He wasn't going to deal with the mountains. He'd take the shortest route he could to Reno and then start combing the area to either find the old man or find someone who knew where he was.

"He knows I'm following him." Clarke thought to himself as he laid out his bedroll. He didn't like that. If a man knew he was being followed, the odds of the one doing the trailing 'winning'-as it were-dropped drastically. Once his sleeping bag was rolled out, he set about cooking something to eat-in spite of the late hour. As in the other places he'd been, he'd talked with the people who had met Conner Londrach and his granddaughter. He again pulled out the envelope his cousins had given him. He was shocked to have the thought 'Why are you so jealous of the Irishman?' Jealous? Where had that thought come from? He had never been jealous of the prison doctor. He'd hated him for turning away his cousin when the man was in need, for butchering the hurt leg once he did operate on it, and for showing mercy to the enemy. Again he was stunned to have the question 'Are you sure of that?' pop into his mind. He hurried and stuffed the envelope back into his pocket, ate his supper and lay down. Though, it was yet another restless sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

In Search of Tranquility Chapter Sixteen

Noise was practically non-existent when Rachel walked into the small café in Stockton. How could it be any different when there were only five other patrons in the building?

"May I get you a table, Ma'am?" The young, red headed waitress who stood about the same height as Rachel, walked up smiling.

"Yes, thank you." Rachel smiled back and then followed the young woman to a table that was set against the wall. Once she was seated the waitress handed her the menu and walked away, saying she'd be back in a few minutes.

Rachel's eyes scanned the list of foods on the menu and blew out a frustrated breath. She was hungry only nothing sounded good. Then again, that was probably because she had fallen in love with Silas' cooking and would have preferred to eat some of his cooking at the moment. For that matter, she'd take one of his sandwiches. Which is exactly what she'd be doing if Nick hadn't had to go to Modesto on some business, taking her grandfather with him-after the doctor had okayed the short trip. That being the case, she'd decided she wanted to do something just for her…and eating out had seemed like a good idea. Just as she began telling herself to make up her mind when it came to the food on the menu, Heath walked in the door. She wasn't surprised when he started walking towards her table.

"Do you mind some company?" Heath asked as he pointed towards the extra chair that sat on the other side of the table.

"No, I don't. This eating out by myself isn't turning out the way I had hoped." Rachel smiled. Though, once Heath sat down, her smile faded just a little. "How come I get the feeling there's more to your joining me than simply wanting to eat?"

Heath, who had quickly learned how perceptive the young woman was, wasn't surprised she asked that particular question. "I heard you and mother talking this morning."

Rachel stiffened, unsure of what was coming. "I was nothing but polite to your mother and, as far as I know-said nothing out of line. From what I could tell, she didn't either. What about it has you so concerned you would come to the café to talk to me?"

Heath couldn't help but smile. His mother had, basically, said the same thing when he'd cornered her in the kitchen. "Oh, both of you were polite enough, there's no question about that." Heath stopped speaking, as the waitress had walked up to the table. Once she'd taken their orders and left, he started talking again. "While the two of you sounded polite enough, I could also feel an underlying tension between the two of you. Ask anyone who knows me, I don't ordinarily poke my nose into other people's business." Heath hesitated, still halfway thinking he shouldn't be having the conversation in the first place. However, his dilemma was solved when Rachel, who mistook the pause as his being through talking, spoke up.

"However, we're talking about you mother and, if Nick and I marry, she and I would have to face each other on an almost daily level." She leaned slightly backwards and looked at Nick's Blonde haired brother.

"I don't want to see any of you hurt and, if you ask her, Mother is only concerned Nick will wind up with a broke heart." Heath rubbed the side of his chair.

"Again," Rachel gave Heath a knowing smile, even though her one word confused him—until she clarified she was adding onto his last sentence. "Nick told me about the failed relationships he's had. Sounds pretty normal to me; I mean, he sounds like he's having a pretty much normal life to me."

Heath nodded. "He; well, all of us have had a few of those." He straightened up. "Look, I don't care one way or the other when it comes to you and Nick. I'll support you either way. I'd just like to see you and Mother doing more than being polite and civil to each other for Nick's sake."

Rachel inwardly sighed. She knew what Heath was talking about. There had been some tension in the room as she and Victoria had visited. As she thought on it, Rachel realized it had only been present when their political views had come up. "I think there's a lot to the saying 'don't discuss religion or politics with anyone you don't know extremely well—and have a high respect for'." She then assured Heath he had no cause to worry. "Your mother is a lady, Heath whom I am learning to respect already. No, I don't agree with her on everything, or she with me. However, I think we're both mature enough to know when to talk and when to back away." Rachel rubbed her hands together. "For now, my grandfather is still in danger. He's my first priority. Nick knows that, and agrees with me."

Heath, who had leaned backwards in order to allow the waitress to set their food down, nodded. "I don't doubt your grandfather's life is still at risk, and I'm not surprised Nick thinks the same as you. I'll not bring this subject up again." He said as the waitress walked away. "As long as you promise me you'll continue to be as honest with Nick and Mother- as you've been in the past."

"That's not a hard promise to make. Thanks for caring enough to talk to me directly." Rachel relaxed and gave him a genuine smile.

As Heath and Rachel ate lunch together, Jarrod was standing in the Barkleys' living room talking to his mother about the very same thing—only she'd brought up the subject. Both were standing near the window. "Let it be, Mother. If just for Nick's sake, walk away from this subject. I don't know if it will work out between the two of them or not; however, I do know this…if you or I try to push them apart, Nick will simply marry her to spite us. It's not like Rachel or her grandfather are bad people. So, unless there is something more than the fact that she's from the South, I again suggest you drop it."

Victoria, whose frustration had been showing in her eyes, did her best to relax. Her oldest son had a valid point, and she knew it. "I hope he knows what he's doing." She stood up and walked out of the room, saying she had silverware that needed polishing. That statement only served to make Jarrod chuckle.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Rachel was weeding the garden when Nick walked around the corner of the house. The serious look on his face had Rachel standing up immediately. "What is it, Nick? What's happened? Is it grandfather?" She shot one question after another off as she hurried to the other side of the garden where Nick was now standing.

"Your grandfather is fine, but I just came from town. I talked to Fred and Jarrod." Nick took a hold of her hand and started walking away from the house. His action, along with the solemn feeling about him, made Rachel nervous. She feared she knew the force behind it and voiced her concern. "He's close, isn't he?" She saw no reason to clarify she was talking about Clarke Welch, feeling sure Nick could figure that part out.

Nick nodded before answering. "Jarrod received a telegram from a friend of his in the Pinkerton agency. The man passed through Modesto this morning and saw Mr. Welch. The agent might have questioned if it was really Welch only he heard a Modesto resident talking, and that man called Mr. Welch by his name."

Rachel, who had -with the exception of the time in the cabin-been able to remain strong-found herself shaking just a little and a few tears trying to escape. Naturally, it had Nick wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "I've already informed McColl and the other ranch hands of the situation, and the men who have been patrolling the area will continue to do so."

Rachel sighed as she embraced Nick as well. "I just want this nightmare to end. I want grandpa to be free to live his life without having to look over his shoulder, and I'd like to be able to do the same."

"You will be, both of you." Nick ran his hand over her ear and down the side of her head of a few times.

While it seemed to come out of the blue-as it were-Rachel found herself talking about Victoria and Jarrod. "They don't approve of us being together. No," the young woman said as she pulled out of Nick's embrace and walked over to a stone bench that set near the edge of the garden, "they've never said it only I can see it in their eyes whenever we're around each other, along with the fact that they'll both stiffen ever so slightly."

Nick silently growled as he joined her on the bench. He'd noticed the same thing only he'd been hoping that, eventually, those signs of disapproval would go away. After all, Conner and his granddaughter had been at the ranch for almost two months. "When it comes to Mother, give her time. The War's only been over for ten years. I think that; maybe, deep down inside she still sees the South as a threat to her sons. I know that's not the case, you know it's not true, and-in all reality-Mother does, too. She'll get over it." Again, he kept any grumbling to himself. "When it comes to Jarrod, he was stung pretty hard by a Southern spy and lost a good friend because of it. I think that; perhaps, he's subconsciously holding it against all the South. That's not right, only I think it's what happening."

"And if you're wrong? What if they don't 'get over it' as you say?" Rachel stood back up, took a few steps and turned around-a pleading look was in her eyes as she gazed up Nick. "As much as I'm realizing just how much I like you-maybe even love you-we can't continue this courtship with your mother and oldest brother feeling the way they do. We'll just have another divided house-as it were. There's been enough pain and heartache as it is; I won't be a factor of adding more to anyone's life if I can help it."

Nick felt his heart tighten. He really did like Rachel-and wanted to continue seeing her. Maybe… "Don't give up on us yet." He wasted no time in rising and closing the gap between them. "Give it a while longer; they'll come around whatever the problem is." He reached out and pulled her to him. "Give us more of a chance, please." He whispered.

The 'please' did it. Holding onto Nick for all she was worth, Rachel nodded slightly. Truth was she didn't really want to break the relationship off. "All right, but if time doesn't truly change their mind, it has to be over for us, Nick." Rachel had to fight to keep the hurt out of her voice. "Like I said, I won't have us being together being the reason your own house becomes divided."

While Nick and Rachel were talking, Conner was in town talking to Jarrod. Unbeknownst to either Conner's granddaughter or Jarrod's brother, the Irishman had gotten it into his head to find out just what was behind Jarrod's and Victoria's attitudes—he, like his granddaughter- had seen the nonverbal signs of objection. That being the case, he wanted answers, and he wanted them the day before. That being the case, since he was in town already, he'd cornered Jarrod first.

"Call me what ye will, lad, but before Mr. Welch gets here, I'd like this matter settled." Conner stood as straight as he could. "For the sake of those two, whatever is botherin' ye and your mum, needs to be faced."

Jarrod didn't reply at first, mostly because he'd been trying for weeks to decide why he felt the way he did. "I …" Jarrod started to speak only to find his eyes wandering to a picture that sat one of his shelves; it was a picture of Matt Parker. Though he had no clue as to what Nick had said to Rachel, the memory of Julia and all that had happened during 'that period of time' hit him full force. When that happened, understanding came. He leaned back, his eyes filling with pain.

"Somethin' happened durin' the war, besides the normal fightin'. Is that it?" Conner pulled a chair away from the wall and sat down.

While Jarrod didn't normally talk about Julia and what had happened, he found himself telling Conner everything, and then added, "Doesn't make any sense to hold that against you or your granddaughter."

Conner gave him a sympathetic smile. "No…and yes. Only question now is…" He stood up, walked to the office door, opened it and asked as he walked out, "Are you goin' continue to punish Nick and Rachel for somethin' they had nothin' to do with?" It was a question that would continue ringing in Jarrod's ears until he rode through the gates that stood in front of the Barkleys' home that night.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Nick, who had been searching the house for his mother, walked out the door and headed for the barn-thinking his mother must have gone into town-or to a neighbor's home. However, when he stepped into the barn, Victoria was unsaddling her horse.

When she heard the barn door open, Victoria looked away from her horse. Surprise showed in her eyes; she thought Nick was working with Heath, McColl and the other men out in the North Pasture. Due to the seriousness in his eyes, the conversation that Dr. Londrach had had with her just before she left town, rang in her ears once more.

"_With all due respect, Mrs. Barkley," Conner, who had found Victoria inside the church and listened to the Barkley matriarch point out that she was giving Nick and Rachel support, "I disagree. Yes," he said as he looked around the Sunday room they both stood in, "you are doin' your best, but your objection is still loud and clear. So, I ask-once again-what is it that ye object? My granddaughter herself…or the fact that she's from the South?"_

_Stunned, Victoria had no words at first. After Jarrod and she had talked in the living room, she thought she had been successful in hiding any doubts or concerns she had. Now, with Conner Londrach standing in front of her saying different, Victoria sat down on a brown chair that sat in the middle of the Sunday School room, probably belonged to the teacher. For the first time since Dr. Londrach and his daughter had taken refuge on the ranch, Victoria began looking at things differently._

Victoria looked at her hot-tempered son, and surprised him by asking, "You wish to talk to me as well?"

Stunned, Nick leaned against an empty stall. Since he and Rachel had just arrived home, he knew the young woman had not spoken with his mother. "Who talked to you? Conner?"

"Cornered me in the church," Victoria began brushing her horse's hair. "Wanted some answers, same as you I am guessing," she stopped momentarily and looked at Nick. I didn't realize my concerns were still that clear."

Nick, who appreciated his mother's honesty, rested his arm on top of the stall. "What is the problem?"

Victoria didn't answer for a few minutes and, for a change, Nick patiently waited for her to speak. Finally, she did just that. "I've been thinking long and hard about that very question." She paused and then continued, "When you boys went to war, I spent hours either doing my best not to worry or praying like crazy you'd come home alive. I feared I'd receive word one of our sons-or both-had been killed by the Confederate army. As it was, Jarrod came home struggling to get past what Miss Saxon's action led to. You came home full of nightmares and trying to get a rein on that temper of yours. As you remember, your father and I came mighty close to kicking you off the ranch because it was such a problem…your temper that is." She stepped out of the stall. "Rachel, herself, is a fine woman with her integrity intact. Only," Victoria said as she sat down on a nearby crate, "I guess I'm afraid you'll wind up with your own divided house if you marry her. Religion and politics can cause major problems between people-as you very well know….even leading up to divorces. I'd hate to see that happen to you."

Nick didn't say anything as he sat down on another crate that stood close to the one his mother was using. Finally, letting out a frustrated, but low, growl he looked at his mother. "Rachel and I are adults. Don't you think she and I have discussed such things?"

"Of course, I do." Victoria growled just a little herself. "But you're still my son! I will always care for you and have my concerns. Do you really expect me to be able to simply push them aside?"

Slowly, a smile spread across Nick's face- as he laid his hand on his mother's shoulder. "No, I just want you to rein them in a tad bit more. I really like Rachel, and we have had some very serious discussions on those two subjects you mentioned; we've just had them in private is all."

There was almost a reverent feeling in the barn. Victoria almost hated to break it only break it she had to. "Heath, as you know, also went to town-in order to get some supplies you sent him to Stockton for. After I talked with Dr. Londrach, and after he headed back to the ranch, I bumped into Heath. He was relieved to hear the good doctor had already left Stockton."

Nick, who had been resting his arms on his knees, straightened up. "He's seen Clarke Welch?"

Victoria nodded. "Said he saw the man through the saloon window, would have gone in but he wanted to let Jarrod know…said he thought the two might wind up giving the sheriff a heads up, just so he could keep an eye on the man. He wanted me to tell you, and Dr. Londrach."

Nick stood up, an immense amount of worry was in his eyes. "Conner Londrach isn't here, not that I know of anyway."

Now it was Victoria's turn to be worried. "He left Stockton long enough ago, he should have been here."

Nick hurried over to the stall Coco stood in. He wasted no time in saddling the horse. "Rachel is inside." Nick led Coco towards the barn door. "Please, keep her company while I see if I can find her grand…" his words were cut off as he and Victoria stepped out of the barn to see Fred's temporary deputy, a blonde haired gentleman by the name of Vince, riding hard towards the gate that led to the corral. Exchanging worried glances, Victoria hurried towards the gate while Nick quickly tethered Coco to the corral fence, and then joined his mother as she made it so the deputy could ride into the yard without a problem.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Victoria asked before the deputy had the chance to even think of dismounting.

"I don't know, but Fred wanted to see Nick, Heath and Jarrod in his office. After going to your brother's office and finding Heath and Jarrod there," Vince said as he looked from the Barkley matriarch to her hot-tempered son, "I came straight here, rode as fast as I could because Fred had mentioned there was no time to waste."

Fearing something had happened to Conner, Nick swore silently as he turned around and hurried to untether Coco and join the deputy. Within a matter of seconds he and Vince were riding away from the ranch while Victoria was disappearing into the house.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

A/N When you read the first part of this please keep one thing in mind…I failed to clarify that Clarke thinks his cousins are in the building, but is unwilling to go looking for them…hence the reason he just gets comfortable.

For all intents and purposes, the old warehouse that stood on the east side of Stockton looked empty. However, as Clarke Welch made his way towards the building he kept his eyes wide open. If Aaron and Gil had received his message, his two cousins would be somewhere inside that building. As Clarke opened the door and stepped inside, he remembered the activities of the *past two hours. "Sure hope my 'good' cousins haven't been keeping an eye on me. Hope they simply got my message and came to meet me," Clarke thought as he walked through a wide open area that held a table and four chairs that looked as if they were on their last legs. The items of furniture sat within a few feet of what appeared to be an old bar. What the thing was doing in the warehouse was something Clarke hadn't asked about, and didn't really care. He pulled a chair and sat down.

As Clarke was making himself comfortable, Aaron and Gil were doing their best to get into the warehouse without being seen. "I tell you, someone is following us." Gil turned and looked over his shoulder. It was a statement he had made more than once since they'd left the hotel and started walking in the direction of the warehouse.

Aaron did the same, but saw no one. "You're letting your fears get a hold of you. I told you; Clarke sent me a message that he needs to talk to us before he does the job we hired him to do. That's all there is to it, and no one is keeping an eye on us!"

Gil still wasn't totally convinced, but quit complaining. Why should he continue when his brother looked as if he was going to bite Gil's head off if the man kept whining. It wasn't long before they were in the warehouse looking at their cousin.

"What do you want?" Gil asked sharply; he hadn't been impressed when Aaron told him Clarke had sent word that he wanted to see them.

"Better yet, how did you know where to contact us?" That part had confused Aaron, and he wanted some answers.

Clarke gave Aaron a look of utter disbelief. "Are you serious? You didn't think I'd take your money and do the job without knowing where you were? I always know where the men I work for are. As to what I want," he glared at Gil. "While I was tracking Dr. Londrach, I met up with a couple of men who knew of others- like myself- who had been hired for a job only to find that they'd taken the words spoken to them the wrong way-and paid for it dearly. Since I didn't want to be seen with you in public, I wanted to meet here…to make double sure you wanted Conner Londrach dead, not just crippled up for life."

A part of Aaron couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought he'd been loud and clear on what he wanted. Then again, he too had known men who misunderstood their directions and the consequences they'd suffered. That being the case, before his brother could say anything, he stiffened and snapped. "I-we – want the man dead as a doornail! It's where he belongs."

"And you agree with that? If I simply maim him for life and, by some wild chance get caught, I'm willing to do time without pulling you two into it. However, if you hire me to kill him and the law catches me…I won't be alone when they hang me."

He wasn't surprised when a flash of uncertainty flashed through Gil's eyes, nor when the same thing happened to Aaron. Would they actually back out of their desire for Londrach's blood? That thought left when Aaron shook his head. "That man helped the enemy in the prison camp; he also purposely did a bad job on Gil's leg, I just know it. Dr. Londrach should have been court martialed and shot. We want him dead!" Aaron shocked Clarke when he pulled out his billfold, took out *a hundred dollar bill and held it up. "That man is out at the Barkleys. Get the job done by tomorrow morning and this is yours."

"If you're absolutely sure," Clarke stood up and started towards the door. "He'll be dead by sunrise, just remember I won't be getting a new necktie by myself if something goes wrong."

"If you're careful, nothing will go wrong!" Aaron snapped just before Clarke left the building.

"I've never known Clarke to be that concerned about anything before. What if he gets careless and gets caught?" Gil asked, his concern could be heard in his voice.

"He won't because the moment he kills the 'good doctor' we'll shoot him." Aaron snapped only to be shocked beyond measure when Nick, Conner Londrach and Heath appeared at the top of a flight of stairs. Fred, along with Jarrod, stood up from behind the bar they'd been hiding behind.

"You two are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder." Fred, who had his pistol in his hands looked at the Condon brothers, hoped the two men would see they were outnumbered and give up. However, as in many cases when men are cornered, the two brothers-who were outraged to realize their cousin had had a change of heart- didn't do the sensible thing. Instead, they dove behind some near by boxes and actually tried shooting Fred and the Barkley brothers.

Bullets flew, but for less than a minute. When the small skirmish was over, Nick had a bullet in his arm while the two Condon brothers lay dead on the warehouse floor.

"Let me look at that." Conner started checking Nick's arm while Heath, Jarrod and the sheriff took care of the dead men.

"Fine, but then we go to the jailhouse. I want to know what made Mr. Welch go to Fred and confess everything, and then suggest this plan." Nick sat on an empty crate while the good doctor ripped the sleeve open and began checking Nick's wound.

*If the site I looked at is accurate, the first hundred dollar bill was made in 1862.


	20. Chapter 20

In Search of Tranquility Twenty and Epilogue

Victoria and Audra sat in the living room as Heath and Jarrod informed them of what had happened at the warehouse…and then Jarrod started telling them what had taken place in the sheriff's office afterwards.

"_So," Nick, who was standing against the south wall of the sheriff's office, looked at Clarke Welch-who sat in a chair next to the sheriff's desk. "Why did you change your mind? Not that I or anyone here mind." He smiled at Conner Londrach, who had also chosen to remain standing-allowing Heath and Jarrod to take the only other chairs Fred had to spare-and then looked back at Clarke. "Only you gave up five thousand dollars in order to stop the Condons' plans. Why?"_

_Clarke looked around the room and then at Conner Londrach. He wasn't surprised to see the same question being silently repeated by the others. Slowly, he began telling them of all the people he'd met and what those people had said. "It got under my skin. Still, those meetings by themselves would not have stopped me only I had other questions pop into my head." He paused and then admitted he'd finally realized he didn't hate Connor Londrach for showing mercy to the prisoners of war, nor did he blame him for Gil's bad leg. "I…I was simply jealous. Many people in this life find peace, but they don't find the depth of it that I see in the good doctor here. My own father would say Dr. Londrach has found tranquility-though I didn't understand that one for years. I figured peace and tranquility were just two different words for the same thing. I think I've been searching for tranquility for years, but my word, I couldn't even find a thin layer of peace with all the jealousy I had inside me." He sat just a little straighter. "Funny thing though, once I decided that I couldn't do what my cousins wanted… once I admitted I needed to tell the sheriff everything… I had the most calm feeling come over me. I've never felt anything like that before. It made it so I knew with every fiber in my being I couldn't change my mind… as I knew-even if I don't have words to explain it-I would never succeed in my own search for tranquility if I backed out." He stood up and walked over to Conner and asked quietly, "I'm truly sorry for all the trouble I ever caused you. I may not agree with you politically, but I do admire you and those you fought alongside. Any man willing to fight for what they believe in aren't bad men. Please, forgive me."_

_Conner smiled, knowing how much pride Mr. Welch had to swallow in order to say what he had. "I forgave you a long time ago." He held out his hand and clasped the hand Clarke had held out once he'd finished speaking._

"He won't have to do any jail time, will he?" Audra looked at Jarrod. "I mean, Mr. Welch gave the money to the sheriff and helped expose those two corrupt brothers."

"Nothing for him to do jail time for," Jarrod smiled. "He boarded a train after the chat in the office and headed for his home."

"Where's the Londrachs and Nick?" Victoria, who had thought Nick would be home shortly after his brothers, asked as she glanced towards the front door.

"He went to see Rachel. Conner told him his granddaughter wanted to talk with Nick. As far as I know, those two went out riding. Conner stayed in town; we bumped into Dr. Merar." Jarrod walked over to the table that held the liquor and picked up a decanter, chuckling as he did so. "The last time we saw those two they were in Dr. Merar's office having a discussion on various medical procedures."

Heath and Audra chuckled also, and then excused themselves-saying they both had things to do. Only when they left did Victoria speak up- as she'd seen a troubled look in Jarrod's eyes-even if he had successfully hidden it from Heath and Audra. "What are you not saying?"

Jarrod slowly turned around and sighed. "Nick told me he was going to ask Rachel to marry him. He wants her and her grandfather to live here on the ranch."

"And you still do not want to see that happen?" Victoria asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"It does not matter to me anymore. Well, not enough to wonder if I am hiding my feelings well enough." Jarrod took a swallow of Sherry and sat the glass back down on the table. "Only, Conner Londrach has no intention of staying in Stockton; he said as much to Fred after Heath and Nick had left the office. He said he only stayed on the ranch for the sake of his granddaughter-because he thought he'd be dead 'in a short time', and he wanted Rachel around people that would care for her." He went on to say that Dr. Merar had suggested that Dr. Londrach consider moving to Southern California the other day. "That part of California has less mountains and, overall, has lower elevation." Jarrod then finished by saying that Conner Londrach had wired some friends that he had learned by accident were living in Southern California after the meeting at the sheriff's office was over.

"You think Rachel will go with him." Victoria stated flatly.

"Yes. I mean, the man isn't that old, but thanks to his heart being weakened, his years here on earth are going to be shortened. I'm sure of it and, before you say anything-he does too. He practically stated the same opinion before heading to the telegraph office. Rachel is fiercely loyal to her grandfather. If they had other family…" Jarrod shook his head. "I can't see her accepting Nick's proposal. He's not going to leave this ranch and follow them to Southern California."

Victoria, who wasn't going to speculate, stood up. "Time will tell. For now I have a few chores to get done that I should have accomplished before now." She walked out of the room, hoping for the best.

**Epilogue**

"Father," fifty year old, Jennifer Lynn Barkley Johnson, tapped her father on the shoulder. Nick, who lived with her, her husband and their two youngest daughters, was sitting in the Barkley living room staring off in space – as if he was a thousand miles away. "Are you all right?"

Nick smiled and turned his head towards Jennifer. "I'm fine, just remembering is all."

"Who? Mother or Mama Rachel?" Jennifer sat down on the couch next to Nick, knowing that her father's late wives took turns occupying his mind.

"Mama Rachel. It broke my heart the day I watched her leave with her grandfather only she was right—we didn't love each other enough. Her loyalty was to her grandfather and his weakened heart, and my sweat and blood was in this ranch." He let out an amused chuckle as he continued, "As you know, time went by, we both married others and started having children. When your mother died leaving me with you and your brother to raise, I never dreamed I'd bump into Rachel again. I never thought I'd find out that her grandfather had passed on, and that she too was widowed and raising your two step-brothers by herself." The fact that he'd never thought he and Rachel would have six children of their own didn't need to be stated; Jennifer already knew that.

"And then the two of you really fell in love and never let go," Jennifer, who had always been a romantic at heart and read all her father's journals-with his permission- grinned from ear to ear. "You should get a new journal and keeping writing in it."

"Why? So you can read the stories over and over when I'm gone?" Nick chuckled as he winked at his daughter.

Jennifer laughed, stood up and tapped her father on the shoulder. "What else am I supposed to do with old journals? Now, if you don't mind, the boys, along with and their families will be here this afternoon. I and the girls need to start cooking."

Nick would have teased her that it was too early to start preparing for supper only he didn't for two reasons. One-some of his sons had just as huge appetite as he'd had when he was still working the ranch; and two, if he said anything she was bound to put an apron on him and pull him into the kitchen to help! Instead, he turned his head towards the window and let his memories continue to run through his mind.


End file.
